Preached Tuesday, March 29, 2016 - Tuesday of the Octave of Easter - Christ the King Church 6:30a

Today's Mass readings:  http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/032916.cfm

“Those who accepted his message were baptized, and about three thousand persons were added that day.”

Wow.  Amazing.  We had five new Catholics Saturday night receiving their Easter Sacraments at the Vigil Mass.  Imagine if we were to baptize 3000!

But, really, wouldn’t that be magnificent?  3000 new Catholics joining us as disciples of Jesus Christ? 

It was awesome celebrating the addition of the five new Catholics the other evening.  I had the biggest smile as they were baptized or received, confirmed, and shared for the first time in Eucharist.

Each worked hard for months to prepare to receive the Easter sacraments, and the Holy Spirit was burning brightly in each one.  Seeing new life in our Church is an awesome thing.

Pam and I were watching EWTN last night, a remembrance of Mother Angelica, who died on Easter Sunday.  And a number of the commentators spoke of the literally thousands of people brought to Jesus Christ by her bold evangelism, deep love for Jesus Christ, all through the international television network she founded.

I think the message of this first reading, the message of this season, is that as disciples of Christ, you and I are called to preach the kerygma, the proclamation, the words of St. Peter, and the consistent message of Mother Angelica – that is, that this Jesus has died and is Risen from the dead and is Lord and Christ.  That He died to set us free from the slavery of sin, and rose from the dead to give us the promise of new life here and eternally, and that He is Christ and Lord of our lives.

And we, a parish, the largest parish in the diocese, and individual Catholics, we should be earnestly going about fulfilling Christ’s commission to us – that we should be doing all we can to bring those around us, our fellow Irondequoit residents, to the Lord.

            For just as a part of the calling of a newly married couple is to bring about new life, if possible, so, too, is the calling of us as individual Christians and especially us as a parish family to bring about “new life” as well – new Christians joining the sheepfold of Christ.

And how do we do that?  With our proclamation, yes, but I think the main way is to live joyfully – we are, above all else, Easter people, witnesses of the Resurrection. 

Witnesses in the sense that we believe exactly what St. Peter proclaims in this first reading 

And we witness this most of all by our hope, our joyfulness.  Our smiles.  Our peacefulness.  Our lack of bitterness and judgment.  Our service to each other and our community, meeting their physical and emotional and spiritual needs, washing their feet, so to speak.

If we live this way, as “Easter people,” others will see our joy and want it for themselves, and we will be able to, as St. Peter writes, “always be prepared to give a reason for our hope.” 

And what is that reason?  That Jesus Christ, once crucified, is truly risen.  He now lives!   Forever and ever.  Amen.

Preached Friday, March 25 - Good Friday of the Lord's Passion (3pm, Christ the King Church)

Readings:  http://usccb.org/bible/readings/032516.cfm

It is not unheard of for one person to die for another.  To sacrifice one’s life for another, or to die in place of another.  We see this theme occasionally in books and in movies, and in real life. 

We’ve all heard stories of bravery - medals awarded posthumously to soldiers who’ve thrown themselves on live grenades to save their squads. 

The film Saving Private Ryan tells the fictional story of a squad of eight soldiers sent behind enemy lines to save the life of one soldier, the only one of four brothers to survive the Normandy invasion.  A story in which seven of those eight give their lives. 

Casablanca is the most popular film of all time, in no small part because Rick Blaine sacrifices not his life but his freedom to set free his lost love, Ilsa Laszlo and her husband Victor.

In real life we know the story of Saint Gianna Beretta Molla, Italian Pediatrician and mother, who in 1961 refused both abortion and hysterectomy and sacrificed her own life so that her unborn daughter might be born.

And of course we know the story of the Polish priest Raymund Kolbe, given the name Maximilian Maria when he professed vows as a Franciscan, now known to the world as Saint Maximilian Kolbe.  Best remembered for his selfless act at Auschwitz, volunteering to submit to execution, to martyrdom, to save the life of a young husband and father, Franciszek Gajowniczek, who’d been condemned to death. For whom Maximilian asked to die in his place.

Yes, it is not unheard of for one person to die for another.  For a good person, St. Paul writes, one might even have the courage to die.

But what was unheard of, until this Good Friday, was for the God who made the universe to die for a person.

The God who made the stars, conceived of the Virgin Mary by the power of the Holy Spirit, also, coincidentally, on this day, which in any other year we celebrate as the Feast of the Annunciation.  To take on human flesh, human nature, and submit Himself to the most horrific, painful, and humiliating death possible.

And why?  For you.  For me. 

Because of our sins, our offenses before our all-holy God, you and I were sentenced to death, eternally separated from God.  But Christ, the Son, the spotless Lamb, out of His unfathomable love for us, gave Himself up in obedience for us, for you and me, to restore us to grace, to set us free from the power, the slavery, of sin.    

For our offenses He was pierced, the prophet Isaiah proclaims.  Our infirmities He bore.  Our sufferings He endured.  He died in my place.  And yours.

And when that sinks in, deep down in our hearts, how do we feel about that, what is our thinking, what is our response?  When we realize in our marrow that He has died in our place?

What were the thoughts and feelings of Franciszek Gajowniczek, during the 54 years he lived after Father Kolbe took his place?  What are the thoughts and feelings of St. Gianna Molla’s daughter, still alive today, some 54 years later?  

Unworthiness, perhaps?  Certainly gratitude, sincere humble gratitude.

How much greater the sacrifice of Jesus Christ, which purchased for us not 54 years more of life, but eternal life? 

 We should feel gratitude to be sure, and a profound sense of obligation.  An obligation to live in a way that makes that sacrifice to have been “worth it.”  To not have been in vain.

Abraham Lincoln, speaking at the dedication of the national cemetery in Gettysburg about the thousands who had just died there, vowed to “take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion - that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain.”  

At the end of Saving Private Ryan, Captain Miller, the leader of the squad that had found and rescued Private Ryan, lay dying.  His last words to the young private?  “Earn this.” 

Sisters and brothers, now make no mistake, there is nothing we can ever do to “earn” the salvation Our Blessed Lord won for us, the supreme sacrifice He made this day hanging on the cross.  But what we can do is this. 

We can give our lives back to Him, totally and completely, in gratitude for the supreme sacrifice He made for us this day.  That’s all He asks.  That we give ourselves totally to Him.  That we who have been set free from the slavery of sin, and for whom He won our eternal salvation, cooperate in our salvation, living our lives in a way that gives glory only to Him and to His Father.  And that by our lives we may lead others to know Him, love Him and serve Him.

Brothers and sisters, in a moment we will come forward to embrace and kiss the holy cross.  As we revere that sacred wood, on which He gave Himself up for each of us, let us resolve anew, in great love and humble gratitude, to give our lives to Him.

Preached March 12/13 - Fifth Sunday of Lent - All three St. Kateri sites

Mass readings:   http://usccb.org/bible/readings/031316-fifth-sunday-lent.cfm

We continue to celebrate the Jubilee Year of Mercy, and this gospel passage, I’m sure you’ll agree, is the perfect example, a kind of a poster child, if you will, of Christ’s mercy.

Let’s put ourselves in this Gospel scene – it’s early morning, the sun is shining, we’ve here in the temple area to listen to this Jesus fellow preach, and all of a sudden there’s this hubbub, a commotion, as this crowd of scribes and Pharisees and their followers rush in, practically dragging this woman, perhaps half-dressed, whom they have caught in the very act of adultery. 

We know the scribes and Pharisees have been complaining that this Jesus was welcoming tax collectors and sinners and eating with them.  Maybe, just maybe, this woman had been one of those sinners that Jesus was hanging out with.

Now here are these angry scribes and Pharisees, eager to catch Jesus, eager to find something to hold against him, so they go out and find this woman and forcibly bring her to Jesus.

Now – before we get too far into “scribes and Pharisees = bad, adulterous women = good” we should recall this.  This woman was guilty as sin.  Guilty of sin - caught in the very act.  No question about her guilt.  And not just any sin, a serious sin.  Commandment no. 6 here.  The scriptures make clear – the punishment for this sin is death, by stoning.  According to the law, she was caught red-handed and about to get what she deserved.

And the scribes and Pharisees?  People serious about their faith, serious about following the law.  Even justified in their desire for “justice under the law.”

But their motive wasn’t justice.  Their motive was to eliminate this threat, Jesus, this threat to their way of thinking, their way of believing.

So that sets the stage.  Sets the creative tension, so to speak.  What’s Jesus going to do?  All fall silent, watching as He writes on the ground.  Who knows what He was writing, it matters not.  Maybe He was just taking His time, thinking. 

What am I gonna say, how am I going to save this woman from certain death?  Should I stand and yell and call them hypocrites, a brood of vipers?   No – hypocrites they may be but I love them.

We know what He does.  He simply challenges them.  Let the one without sin be the first.  And one by one they drop their rocks and walk away.  Including you and me.

But we continue to watch from afar.  It’s just the two of them now.  “No one condemns you, neither do I.  Now go and sin no more.”

What are we to make of this beautiful Gospel scene? 

First, what amazing tenderness, amazing gentleness Jesus brings to this situation.  That’s the word that kept coming to me over and over this week as I thought about and prayed with this Gospel – gentleness.  Oh yes, mercy and love also, but gentleness, tenderness, compassion.  Here He is, the eternal Son of God, born without sin, surrounded by sin.  Hers - sins of the flesh.  Theirs - sins of pride, envy, anger.  And Jesus transforms the entire situation with His love, mercy, tenderness, gentleness.

This scene brought to mind the beautiful vision we heard from the Book of the prophet Ezekiel at Mass this past Tuesday.  How a trickle of water flows out of the altar and out of the temple, first becoming a small stream that one can walk through up to the knee, becoming larger, up to the waste, then becoming a river that you’d have to swim across, flowing out and freshening the barren desert, finally emptying into the sea, where the cool, clean river water freshens the salt water of the ocean.

That’s what Jesus is doing here.  Surrounded by a desert of sin, He brings life-giving water.  Surrounded by the salt water of sin, He freshens and transforms the situation.  Indeed, we can be confident that He transforms lives, her life.  For what person, imprisoned in their sin and doomed to death, who encounters Jesus, who calls Himself the life-giving water of salvation, goes back to the same-old, same-old life. 

No one!  Forgiven and set free and told to go and sin no more, we can only imagine that this woman’s encounter with Jesus Christ was completely life-changing, that she was a new person, a “new creation” as we heard from St. Paul last week, as someone who counts their former life apart from Christ as so much rubbish as we hear from St. Paul this week.

So what do we take away from these readings, from this Gospel?

Two things, I think –

The first is this.  We are all this woman.   And we are all these scribes and Pharisees.  We are all sinners, caught up in our sin, maybe so blinded by sin that we don’t even realize our sin.  We all deserve, under the law, to die.  Hopelessly trapped.  Trapped, apart from a life-changing encounter with Christ Jesus. 

We have seven days until Holy Week to encounter Him and let Him transform our lives, to put aside forever all that keeps us from Him, all that is rubbish in our lives.  And Holy Week to follow Jesus along the way of His passion, to ask Him to show us in a new, more powerful way, the amazing love He has for each of us, that He showed us by pouring out His blood on the cross, for me, for you.

A very real way to encounter Jesus, to experience the same mercy, that same gentleness, is (if we haven’t already done so this Lent) to go to confession, the Sacrament of Reconciliation.  There we hear in the words of absolution the same message the woman heard from the Lord Himself – “if no one condemns you, neither do I condemn you.  Now go and do not sin any more.”

Second, just as Jesus freshened the brackish water of his Gospel scene with His love, mercy and gentleness, so you and I are called to take that same love, mercy and gentleness that flows from this altar right here, out there.  In every scene of our lives, in our families, in our schools, workplaces, the supermarket, on the highways – you and I are called to bring healing and mercy and especially gentleness and love to freshen the desert of this culture we find all around us.

I heard it said this week – there are two types of Christians.  The first sees faith as a relationship with a loving God, encountered in the face of His eternal Son, Jesus Christ.  A person whose entire life is centered on that relationship alone, who’s been “taken possession of” by Jesus Christ in every facet of their lives.  The second sees faith primarily as a set of rules to be followed to live a good life.

Sisters and brothers, rules are important.  Jesus said “if you love Me you will keep my commandments,” and He told this woman “go and sin no more.” 

But you and I are called to be the first type of Christian, to be ambassadors to the world of this same amazing love, mercy, tenderness and gentleness that we know in Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  And to carry that same life-giving, life-changing love we find here, into the desert out there.

The homily I did preach today - Fourth Sunday in Lent, March 5/6, 2016

Today's readings:  http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/030616-fourth-sunday-lent.cfm

            It was a couple years ago, the 4:30 Mass at the Christ the King site, and I was preaching that weekend and serving with Father Joe.  I walked into the sacristy at 4:22, 8 minutes early, as I’m wont to do, and said to Father Joe – “Father, I have a dilemma – I wrote a homily and then had another idea and sat down and wrote out another homily and now I don’t know which to preach.”

            Father Joe, in his wisdom, and simplicity, and sense of humor, said to me, “I don’t care which you preach, but please, don’t preach both!”

            Well I have the same problem here today – I had a very nice homily prepared, planned to focus on why this Gospel passage shouldn’t be called the Prodigal Son, but rather the merciful father – I mean this man’s sons – one ran away and spent everything and came crawling back, and the other never left but was angry and bitter and distant and neither really understood their father’s amazing, merciful love.

            And I was going to segue to invite everyone to take advantage of the most amazing experience of Christ’s mercy, this coming Wednesday, when every parish in the diocese will have the Sacrament of Reconciliation – Confession – and we’ll have it here for seven hours from 12:30 – 7:30.  It’s a chance to hear those most magnificent words – “I absolve you of your sins.”

            Well anyway that’s the homily I decided not to preach.  For it was about 3:45p today (yesterday) and I heard this little voice say “preach the other idea.”  For I believe there’s someone here today who needs to hear this homily, maybe  we all need to hear it.

            What I’m going to do is read a reflection attributed to Blessed Teresa of Calcutta, soon to be SAINT Teresa of Calcutta, and it calls to mind those words we’ll hear Jesus say from the Cross if we’re at the Good  Friday liturgy, when He says “I thirst.”  And that’s the title of this reflection from Blessed Teresa – “I thirst.”

I THIRST

            It is true. I stand at the door of your heart, day and night. Even when you are not listening, even when you doubt it could be Me, I am there. I await even the smallest sign of your response, even the least whispered invitation that will allow Me to enter.

            And I want you to know that whenever you invite Me, I do come – always, without fail. Silent and unseen I come, but with infinite power and love, and bringing the many gifts of My Spirit. I come with My mercy, with My desire to forgive and heal you, and with a love for you beyond your comprehension – a love every bit as great as the love I have received from the Father ("As much as the Father has loved me, I have loved you…" (Jn. 15:10) I come - longing to console you and give you strength, to lift you up and bind all your wounds. I bring you My light, to dispel your darkness and all your doubts. I come with My power, that I might carry you and all your burdens; with My grace, to touch your heart and transform your life; and My peace I give to still your soul.

            I know you through and through. I know everything about you. The very hairs of your head I have numbered. Nothing in your life is unimportant to Me. I have followed you through the years, and I have always loved you – even in your wanderings. I know every one of your problems. I know your needs and your worries. And yes, I know all your sins. But I tell you again that I love you – not for what you have or haven’t done – I love you for you, for the beauty and dignity My Father gave you by creating you in His own image. It is a dignity you have often forgotten, a beauty you have tarnished by sin. But I love you as you are, and I have shed My Blood to win you back. If you only ask Me with faith, My grace will touch all that needs changing in your life, and I will give you the strength to free yourself from sin and all its destructive power.

            I know what is in your heart – I know your loneliness and all your hurts – the rejections, the judgments, the humiliations, I carried it all before you. And I carried it all for you, so you might share My strength and victory. I know especially your need for love – how you are thirsting to be loved and cherished. But how often have you thirsted in vain, by seeking that love selfishly, striving to fill the emptiness inside you with passing pleasures – with the even greater emptiness of sin. Do you thirst for love? "Come to Me all you who thirst…" (Jn. 7: 37). I will satisfy you and fill you. Do you thirst to be cherished? I cherish you more than you can imagine – to the point of dying on a cross for you.

            I Thirst for You. Yes, that is the only way to even begin to describe My love for you. I THIRST FOR YOU. I thirst to love you and to be loved by you – that is how precious you are to Me. I THIRST FOR YOU. Come to Me, and I will fill your heart and heal your wounds. I will make you a new creation, and give you peace, even in all your trials I THIRST FOR YOU. You must never doubt My mercy, My acceptance of you, My desire to forgive, My longing to bless you and live My life in you. I THIRST FOR YOU. If you feel unimportant in the eyes of the world, that matters not at all. For Me, there is no one any more important in the entire world than you. I THIRST FOR YOU. Open to Me, come to Me, thirst for Me, give me your life – and I will prove to you how important you are to My Heart.

            Don’t you realize that My Father already has a perfect plan to transform your life, beginning from this moment? Trust in Me. Ask Me every day to enter and take charge of your life. – and I will. I promise you before My Father in heaven that I will work miracles in your life. Why would I do this? Because I THIRST FOR YOU. All I ask of you is that you entrust yourself to Me completely. I will do all the rest.

            Even now I behold the place My Father has prepared for you in My Kingdom. Remember that you are a pilgrim in this life, on a journey home. Sin can never satisfy you, or bring the peace you seek. All that you have sought outside of Me has only left you more empty, so do not cling to the things of this life. Above all, do not run from Me when you fall. Come to Me without delay. When you give Me your sins, you gave Me the joy of being your Savior. There is nothing I cannot forgive and heal; so come now, and unburden your soul.

            No matter how far you may wander, no matter how often you forget Me, no matter how many crosses you may bear in this life; there is one thing I want you to always remember, one thing that will never change. I THIRST FOR YOU – just as you are. You don’t need to change to believe in My love, for it will be your belief in My love that will change you. You forget Me, and yet I am seeking you every moment of the day – standing at the door of your heart and knocking. Do you find this hard to believe? Then look at the cross, look at My Heart that was pierced for you. Have you not understood My cross? Then listen again to the words I spoke there – for they tell you clearly why I endured all this for you: "I THIRST…"(Jn 19: 28). Yes, I thirst for you – as the rest of the psalm – verse I was praying says of Me: "I looked for love, and I found none…" (Ps. 69: 20). All your life I have been looking for your love – I have never stopped seeking to love you and be loved by you. You have tried many other things in your search for happiness; why not try opening your heart to Me, right now, more than you ever have before.

            Whenever you do open the door of your heart, whenever you come close enough, you will hear Me say to you again and again, not in mere human words but in spirit. "No matter what you have done, I love you for your own sake Come to Me with your misery and your sins, with your troubles and needs, and with all your longing to be loved. I stand at the door of your heart and knock. Open to Me, for I THIRST FOR YOU…"

The homily I didn't preach Fourth Sunday of Lent, March 5/6 2016

Today's readings:  http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/030616-fourth-sunday-lent.cfm

I find it hard sometimes – maybe you do, too – to listen to Gospel passages like this one.  It’s not a story we haven’t heard before, tens or even hundreds of times.  The prodigal son.  Maybe some of you were reciting the passage right along with me.  It’s hard to listen with new ears, to glean new insights, to let such a passage affect our lives.

And for that same reason it’s difficult to preach about such passages as well.  What can I possibly hope to say that you haven’t heard before.  That you’ll take with you and remember, and might by the power of the Holy Spirit affect your lives?

The first thing I’d say is that this is maybe the most poorly named parable in all of the Gospels.  The prodigal son.  As if it were all about this mixed up kid who runs away from home and comes crawling back.  No, this parable of Jesus isn’t so much about the prodigal son, or even the two sons as some have called it, but about the loving father. 

Think about it – the two brothers never even meet in this story.  The only one who interacts with anyone else, who has any kind of conversations at all is the father.  And even the way the story begins:  “a man had two sons.”  The subject, if you will, of the story, the protagonist, is the father.

A better name for this parable would definitely be the “Merciful Father.”

And I think it would benefit us, today and all this week, and all the rest of lent, to focus on this loving, merciful father (and as an aside, where did Lent go, huh?  I mean here we are wearing rose, with two weeks left until Palm Sunday and the beginning of Holy Week – so it’s not over with yet, but it’s flying along, so if we haven’t started our lent yet, we have only a couple weeks left to make something of this time). 

And a great way to do that, I think, is to focus on, to meditate on, to take into our hearts and minds and souls, the depth of this father’s amazing love and mercy.  Rejected and abandoned, each in their own way, by his two sons.  Yet his love doesn’t stop.

The first, who comes to him and says, in effect, “Dad, I’ve had enough of this place, I want out.  I’m outta here.  And by the way, dad, I can’t wait until you die for my inheritance, I want it now, so you might as well be dead to me.” 

Isn’t that what sin looks like?  I don’t need you, God – you’re dead to me - I can do this on my own.  We sever our relationship with God.  And God really is, in a sense, dead to us in our sin – we block out His presence, we run and hide, like Adam and Eve in the garden.

Most fathers, I think, would respond “ok, kid, you’re dead to me, too.”  But not this kind of father.  This father, respecting the son’s free will, gives him his share and lets him go.  What kind of father does that?

This kind of father, I can imagine, stood at the window with tears as his son confidently strode off down the road.  And there he waited, I imagine, day after day, week after week, maybe year after year.  Waiting for the son’s return, watching the horizon for any sign of his beloved son.  And then ran, not walked, ran and embraced his son, who returned not so much because he was sorry, but because he was hungry.

And then we have the other son, just as far away from his father even though he stayed under the same roof.  Filled with jealousy, resentment, bitterness, judgment, a lack of love, to be sure.  We might imagine it was this other son’s lack of love for his brother that was the root of the prodigal’s leaving in the first place.  We see his bitterness and resentment on full display in his refusal to come in and celebrate his brother’s return.  We see his anger- not only with his brother but with his father, resentful of his dad’s amazing love and mercy.

Aren’t we all a little like that, too?  Or some of us a lot like that?  We who are in church every Sunday especially might have that kind of attitude.  Hey He’s our God, we put Him in a box, our box.

This kind of father knows his son’s anger and bitterness.  He stands and pleads with him anyway – he loves his son too much to despair of him.

Both sons fail to trust in their father’s love, in his mercy.  Fail to have learned from their father what unconditional love, and love for each other, looks like.

But I said this is about the father, so I ask again, what kind of father acts like this?  Hurt I’m sure by both sons’ sins against him, he continues to pour out his love, his openness, his mercy, on each. 

Dumb question, I know.  For Our Blessed Lord is beautifully describing the love and mercy of His Father here.  Our Father.  

Like the Father in the parable, Our Father God watches as we ignore Him and abandon Him and sin against Him, and He patiently awaits our return.  He hates our sin, I’m sure, but He loves us too much to ever despair of us, to ever despair of our returning to Him.

Whether we’ve run off like one son, or whether we’ve stayed and stewed in bitterness, anger and lack of love.  He doesn’t care if we return because we’re 100% sorry or if it’s just because we haven’t found what we were looking for out there away from Him and now we’re hungry, starving, crawling home.  He simply wants us back.

There is a beautiful and graced opportunity for each of us to come back to Him, in a real, concrete, tangible way, and that’s this Wednesday, March 9, for the Diocesan day of penance, which is our parish will be celebrated (here) at the St. Margaret Mary church site, for 7 hours, 12:30-7:30.  A priest will be available all afternoon and into the evening for the sacrament of penance. 

It’s a chance to, in a very real way, return to our loving, merciful Father, by His grace express our sorrow for our sins, and hear those most magnificent words: “God, the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, + and of the Holy Spirit.”

Sisters and brothers, let us not let this marvelous opportunity pass by – an opportunity to experience in a very real sense the joy of returning to the Father, of fathoming His joy at our return, of knowing His welcoming embrace, and feeling the consolation of His amazing love, mercy, and forgiveness.