Homily preached for the Solemnity of Christ the King of the Universe, Nov 25/26 2017 - all Masses, St. John the Evangelist Parish

Today's Mass readings:  http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/112617.cfm

Trivia question for you – what do Morocco, Spain, Norway, Sweden, Cambodia, Belgium, Bahrain and the Netherlands all have in common? 

Trivia answer – Each has a king.  Japan has an Emperor.  Denmark has a queen, as do sixteen different nations who honor Queen Elizabeth II as their monarch.

But we in America – we have no king, no queen.  Rejected him, got rid of him 241 years ago.  “We got this,” we said in 1776.  “We can rule ourselves.”  And we have, not perfectly but pretty successfully over those 241 years, I would say.

As a result, you and I have little understanding of what it means to have a king, a monarch. And that’s a pretty important thing to understand on this feast, the solemnity of Jesus Christ, King of the Universe, isn’t it?  Even in those nations who still have a king or queen today, that person is usually a figurehead, as the governments are mostly elected by the people.  So I’m not sure the folks in those places really understand the concept either, as it once was.

There was a time when pretty much all the world, every nation, was ruled by a king or a queen.  What did it mean to have a king?

Of course, the king was the head of state – the public face and symbol of his nation, his people. The people would give him honor, respect, allegiance, even love.

The king was the leader – would lead his people, and his people would submit to being led. 

The king demanded obedience from those he ruled.  The king was leader, yes, but also ruler.  The executive branch, legislative branch – he made the rules – and the judicial branch.  The king was the supreme judge. So you prayed for a good king, a benevolent king, who would use such vast powers wisely and lovingly.

A good king would care for his people, care for the people entrusted to him.

We celebrate today that we have such a good king, a loving king, a perfect king – Our Blessed Lord.

A leader and ruler who lovingly and personally shepherds us, as we heard in our first reading from the prophet Ezekiel. 

“I myself” says the Lord three times.  “I myself will look after and tend my sheep. I will rescue them from every place where they were scattered. I myself will pasture my sheep; I myself will give them rest.”  That is the kind of king we pay homage to this day, every day.  The kind of king who loves us so much that He left heaven to come to save us!

But if He is a good and perfect king, a loving shepherd, what does that make us?  For after all, the concept of Christ our King implies a relationship.  If He is to be our King, we, then, are His subjects, His sheep even. 

It means that we are to submit our minds, our wills, our hearts, our lives to Him.  To let Him rule our hearts and lives as our King.  That’s the hard part.  Especially for us Americans I think.  We still have that tendency to say “I got this. I can rule myself.”

And this culture, which you can sum up, I think, in Frank Sinatra’s signature song “I did it my way” encourages just that kind of attitude.  “I don’t need no stinkin king.  I can do it myself.”  That is the attitude of the sleek and the strong of which Ezekiel speaks: “The lost I will seek out, the strayed I will bring back, the injured I will bind up, the sick I will heal, but the sleek and the strong I will destroy, shepherding them rightly.”

He calls us to have the attitude of sheep, of subjects, humbly submitting to being led, trusting in His care for us, turning to Him and relying on Him in every aspect of our lives.  Letting Him really be the King of our hearts.

Now His is a different sort of kingdom – it’s one where we can, and do, vote for king.  By our lives, by the way we live our lives, we elect Him King of our hearts, or we vote for something else.  Our lives proclaim Him “my Lord, my King, my God,” or we proclaim “not my king.” We do that when we obey Him, or when we obey our own whims and passions.

And Our Lord, in this Gospel, tells us vividly, and frighteningly even, how we do that.  We do that by how we serve our neighbor.  Or how we neglect them.  By how we look for our King in the least, the poorest, the most defenseless among us.  Do we see in the homeless and hungry the face of Our Blessed Lord?  Do we give Him to eat, to drink?  Clothe Him, visit Him, care for Him?  Or did we go about our own business, our own way, ignoring them, serving ourselves? 

That is how we vote – that is how we proclaim Him my King, or not.  How we choose His Kingdom, or the Kingdom of the prince of this world.

A story is told about a king…who lived in a far-off land.  He had a wealthy kingdom, with all his needs and desires met every day by his royal court.  He was loved and respected by his family and noblemen and was known throughout the land for his wisdom and fairness.  He had everything he wanted, except for one important thing:  he had no heir to whom he could leave his kingdom and all its wealth.  So in his wisdom and he came up with a plan.  He would invite young people from all over his kingdom to come to the castle and be interviewed for the job.  He’d find the most-qualified, most well-suited young man to become his prince and heir.  The king sent out the word to his people and then he waited.

Far away in a tiny remote village, a poor young man heard about the king’s plan. Intelligent and hard-working, his heart leapt at the thought of meeting the king and perhaps earning his trust to become his adopted prince.  But the castle was a long way from the young man’s village and he had no supplies for such a hard journey.  So the young man worked and saved day and night to earn enough to buy the food he needed to make the trip and new clothes suitable for meeting the king.  After weeks of work and difficult travel, he finally found himself outside the king’s castle.

Sitting by the castle gate was a filthy beggar dressed in dirty rags. “Have pity on me, my son” the beggar cried out to the young man.  “Help me.” The young man looked down at the beggar and his heart was moved to pity for him.  He gave the beggar the new clothes he’d worked so hard to buy.  And he gave him the money he’d saved for his return trip home. 

The beggar was overjoyed and thanked the young man for his generous heart and kindness.  But now his giving heart was fearful as he looked down at the old clothes he’d worn on his travels.  Since he’d given away the only new clothes he had to the beggar, he was going to have to wear his old things to meet the king.  “Oh well,” he thought, “I’ve come too far to let anything stop me now.” 

He was escorted into the palace and led down a long hallway to the king’s throne room.  As the huge doors opened before him, the young man stepped into the presence of the king.  And there, seated on the throne, was the beggar, wearing the clothes the young man had given him.  The king smiled and looked at his shocked visitor, threw open his arms and exclaimed, “Welcome, my son!”

That is the kind of King we have, sisters and brothers.  And that is how He will judge whether we are worthy to spend eternity with Him.  Let us choose wisely.

Homily - 32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time, November 11/12, St. John the Evangelist Church

Mass readings:  http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/111217.cfm

Good evening/morning.

I think a single word can sum up all three of our readings this evening/morning, and that word is WISDOM.  Wisdom. Our first reading, in fact, is from the Old Testament Book of Wisdom.

But what is wisdom?  Intelligent, smart, right?  I don’t think so.  A little story might help.

There were two little boys, ages3 and 5.  Whenever the boys’ uncle would come to visit he liked to play a little game with the 3 year old.  So he’d pull out two coins – a nickel and a dime, and he’d ask the little guy to pick one, whichever one you pick you get to keep.  Naturally, the 3-year old picked the bigger one, the nickel.  And this went on over a number of years, every time the uncle came to visit, with the younger one picking the bigger coin every time, until now the two boys are like 8 and 10.

The uncle comes by, and as he usually does, he pulls out the two coins, and as he usually does, the now 8-year old still picks the nickel.  A few minutes later, with the uncle out of the room, the older brother says, “you dummy – why do you always pick the nickel when you know the dime’s worth twice as much.”

“I’m no dummy,” says the younger brother.  “Unc has been giving me nickels for five years, and as soon as I pick that dime, he’s gonna stop playing the game!”

Sisters and brothers – that is wisdom.

It’s far greater than smarts, or intelligence. 

Wisdom involves being able to see ahead, into the future.  To understand what is going to happen.  What happens if I keep going down a certain road, if I don’t change direction?

And wisdom involves having priorities right.  Knowing what’s important, and what’s not.  What’s more valuable, and what’s less.

This world, which thinks it’s so smart, doesn’t have its priorities straight, doesn’t understand what’s more valuable.  And so it is, so often, with us.  We’re attracted to the immediate, the pleasurable, the shiny object, and will so often choose that over the eternal, what will bring us eternal joy.

This Gospel is about this sort of wisdom, isn’t it?  In Our Blessed Lord’s parable we see the five foolish virgins, and the five wise virgins.  The fools had made no preparation for the coming of the bridegroom, while the wise were always ready.

And that’s the simple but powerful message of all these readings, isn’t it – we will live in a life beyond this one, and if we’re wise, we’ll wind up in the right place. 

We’ll be prepared.  Unlike this foolish world, we will be prepared.

What does it mean to be prepared?

First, it means that we are careful to always be in a state of grace, free of serious sin on our consciences.  How?  By our obedience when faced with those decisions – to give in to temptations or reject them and stay faithful to the Lord.  

And for those times when we are weak, when we fail, and we are all sinners, we are all weak and all fail, well we have a place, we have a Sacrament! -  to repent and be reunited, reconciled to the Lord, who always stands ready to welcome us back with open arms and a loving smile. The Sacrament of Reconciliation.  Use it often!

Second, it means that we must forgive.  How can we expect the Lord to forgive us if we hold tight the offenses others have done against us?  Too many of us grow old with life-long grievances, unwilling or too hard-hearted to let it go, to let it be healed.  Too many of us take such grievances to our graves, never giving the forgiveness we are counting on from the Lord!

Third, to be wise and prepared means we must use our time wisely – to love as He did.  We are only given so many years, so many days, so many hours, so many breaths.  And we have no idea how many we’re given.  So it’s high time we examine how we’re using that time – is it the way He wants us to use it?  Is it the way He’s calling me, calling you, to use our precious days and hours?

Are we giving of ourselves in loving service, or hoarding our time, talent and treasure to ourselves?

Fourth and finally, are we spreading His Word, His Kingdom.  Sisters and brothers, you and I are IT – you and I are THE disciples He chose to bring His Word, His kingdom to Greece, New York, right here, right now.  Are we doing that?  It’s a big job, a big responsibility, and we might think He’s a fool to choose us, weak, sinful and afraid as we are.  But He’s no fool, and He gives us all the help, all the grace we need. 

We don’t have much time.  So we’d better get at it, huh?

Real wisdom can be summed up, I think, in the simple words of the psalmist – “make me know the shortness of my life.”  Wise people know, yes often from painful experience, that life is short, life is fragile.  We saw that so tragically and vividly in a little Baptist Church in South Texas just six/seven days ago.

But the truly wise know that this life is not the end. The truly wise are always ready, always hoping, always looking for the coming of the Kingdom, the coming of the bridegroom, who is of course Our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Homily preached for the Solemnity of All Saints, Wednesday November 1, 2017 - 6p St. John the Evangelist Church

Mass readings:   http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/110117.cfm

Everybody has a favorite saint, huh?  Who’s yours?  Your namesake perhaps?  Or maybe another saint who’s special to you?

I have a couple favorite saints. My namesake, for one, St. Edward, King of England.  I was touring Westminster Abbey in London something like 20 years ago and there, behind the altar, is St. Edward’s chair, a dumpy old wooden chair but famous because every king and queen of England sits in it when they’re crowned and vested.  I was given his saint’s name, so I have to show favoritism, even if he lived nearly 1000 years ago!

Another favorite of mine is St. Joseph…patron of fathers and husbands, workers, protectors, providers.

Oh and St. Peter, too….mainly because he was so human – bold but so weak, betrayed the Lord, then led our Church, gave his life for the Lord as did so many of the saints we celebrate today.

The Solemnity of All Saints - while the best known saints have their own feast days, we gather this evening to celebrate All Saints.  All those who’ve gone before us, who’ve lived exemplary lives, lives of beatitude, lives of heroic virtue, lives of bearing their crosses and surviving great distress and are now gathered around the throne of God as we just heard in our first reading.

But why do we celebrate them?  For a few reasons actually –

Because of their example.  These days we emulate sports figures, and politicians, and entertainers…Kardashians, anyone?  The ones we should be emulating are the saints, who show us in so many diverse ways the way to live, the way to genuine self-giving love, the way to holiness.

We celebrate them because of their help, their support, their intercession – we have this cloud of witnesses, like this giant cheering section up there, rooting us on on our own faith journey, giving us aid and comfort and praying for us before the throne of God.

And, because to reverence the saints, we give praise to God.  None of the saints, you see, did it on their own.  They’re with God in heaven for one reason – Our Blessed Lord died and rose again to save them.  To be sure, each had to cooperate, each had decisions to make, each had to respond to God’s call with a heroic “yes!”  But by reverencing the saints, we are praising Jesus our Savior.

And we celebrate them this day because you and I are called to join them.  To become saints ourselves.

Oh that’s silly, Deacon Ed, you might say.  If you knew me, you’d know I’m no saint.  That’s certainly true about me!

But make no mistake, you and I are called to Sainthood, whether or not we’re ever canonized, whether or not we ever have a feast day. 

It’s comforting, I think, that of all the saints we celebrate today, every one was a sinner save Mary, the Blessed Mother of Our Lord, who was of course born without stain of sin.  But other than her, all these holy men and women were, like you and me, sinners. 

Some were great sinners – St. Paul presiding over the stoning of St. Steven comes to mind.  Or the sexual sins of St. Augustine - “Lord make me chaste, but not yet,” prayed St. Augustine. But St. Monica kept praying for her son and praying for him and lo, he became one of our greatest saints.

Yes, even though each was a sinner, each persisted in the faith, each let the power of grace work in their lives, and each grew in holiness.  And each went to their graves having lived exemplary lives.

Sisters and brothers, you and I are called to join them.  Father Larry Richards, a well-known Catholic speaker from Erie, spoke a few weeks back at the diocesan men’s conference.  I bought three of his book “Be a Man” – one for each of my two sons in law and one son-in-law to be, God willing.  It was lunchtime and I waited until Father Larry was done praying before the tabernacle to ask him to sign each book.

“Be a Saint” he wrote in each one.  And then he looked at me and said “…or go to hell!”  “Be a saint or go to hell!”  That bluntness was a shock to me!  But the choice before us is really that stark. 

If we pursue lives of selfishness and sin, keeping Jesus far away, or confined to an hour each week, we’ll go to the warm place. 

But if we pursue with all our effort the path of holiness, giving ourselves completely to Him and letting His grace work in our lives…if we choose to obey Him in all the little decisions we face…if we strive to live lives of self-giving love, of beatitude - you and I will join those holy men and women who’ve gone before us, and we, too, will live eternally in the peace and unimaginable joy of the Kingdom of Heaven.

Oh, and I’d be completely remiss if I didn’t mention the greatest of the saints – Our Blessed Mother – whose help is most valuable, and who will absolutely lead us to her Son if only we ask her and trust her.  Let us ask her right now for her intercession – “Hail Mary, full of grace…”

Homily for the 21st Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A - preached at St. Kateri at Christ the King August 26/27, 2017

Today's scripture proclamations:  http://usccb.org/bible/readings/082717.cfm

“It is a great day to be a Catholic!”

I haven’t personally heard him say this yet - perhaps you have - I think he’s said it at more than one liturgy.  But my wife heard our new parochial vicar, Father Mike Buontello, proclaim this in a homily at daily mass a couple weeks ago.  “It is a great day…to be a Catholic!”

Now why would we say such a thing, much less why would we proclaim such a thing? 

The answer - because it matters.  It matters that I am Catholic, that we are Catholics.

            A friend sent me an interesting article the other day, written by Deacon John Beagan, a deacon who serves in a parish up near Boston, entitled “What’s Missing in the New Evangelization?”  After reading it I decided this article could just as easily have been entitled, “why aren’t our evangelization efforts working?” Or perhaps “why are we failing to convince people that it matters to be Catholic?”

Bishop Robert Barron asserts that for every one person joining the Church today, six are leaving.  And it is all too apparent, we are an aging Church – where are the young people?

Deacon John asserts that the Church is languishing these days because folks are pretty well off - reasonably comfortable financially, and despite challenging and traumatic events at times, life is pretty good.  He says that “basically, we live in a time and place where, practically speaking, we don’t need God.”

The Holy Father calls the Church a “field hospital for sinners,” but Deacon John writes “When I look at my extended family members and friends who don’t go to Mass, and people in the pews who don’t participate in parish life outside of Mass, I don’t see wounded people in need of a Church hospital.”

He observes that we are basically healthy and content and drifting away from our Lord Jesus.  Why?  The reason he says - “people have been infected by an increasingly steady stream of doubts and false beliefs.”

He cites a questionnaire conducted of Catholics in his hometown just last year, a questionnaire that reveals significant doubts among Catholics.  Doubts that the Church is critical to our relationship with God; doubts about the teaching authority of the Church; doubts about Jesus’ moral teachings as taught by the Church; even doubts that Scripture is the word of God.

Frankly, it seems to me, we’ve largely been evangelized by this world.  Modern media – television, movies, internet – have been far more effective than we’d like to admit in evangelizing us to ways of thinking that are far from God’s way.  And none of us are immune.  How far we’ve strayed in our beliefs about sexuality, economics, our responsibility to the poor.  To the point that the Church is seen as irrelevant, often even among us pewsitters.

The main false belief that has infected us, according to Deacon John, is the belief, the presumption, that everyone goes to heaven.  Eulogies at funerals routinely become canonizations of the deceased.  This belief is, of course, not scriptural, certainly not something the Lord Jesus taught us.  His way, He said, is the narrow gate, and those who enter it are few.    The last thing this world wants us to realize is that we are engaged in a battle - between good and evil, God and Satan, over our eternal souls. 

Which brings me to this Gospel.  Jesus asks “Who do YOU say that I am,” Peter answers with the magnificent confession of faith “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God." Jesus confirms this: “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah. For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my heavenly Father.”

Our Blessed Lord, the Son of the living God, then invests in Peter His power.  Upon you, Peter, I will build my Church, and the gates of the netherworld will not prevail against her.

And this is why it matters that we are Catholic – Jesus, who has just confirmed that He is the Christ, hands to Peter the keys to His kingdom.  Just as the Lord gave Eliakim the key to the House of David in our first reading from Isaiah, making him the doorkeeper of His household, so Jesus gives Peter the keys to the Kingdom of Heaven, giving him and by extension the Church, the power to bind and loose – what you bind, I will bind in heaven. What you loose, I will loose in heaven.

That day our Lord invested in Peter, as head of the apostles, as the future earthly head of His Church, the power of eternal salvation.  The powr to carry on the mission of Jesus, which is salvation!  No, not everyone goes to heaven, Our Lord makes clear. But the Church, likened to a ship, with Peter as the original helmsman, is charged with the sacred responsibility and power of safely carrying souls across the stormy sea. Across the stormy sea of this world, a sea of disbelief, disorder, and downright evil, safely to our goal, our heavenly homeland.

Sisters and brothers, we are that Church that Our Lord promised to build on the rock of Peter that day.  We are that boat.  It is right here, right back there in that little room in the corner, that we experience in the person of the priest, the power of Jesus to bind and loose – to forgive our sins and call us to ever growing holiness.  The only place, in fact, where our serious sins may be remitted so that we may be reconciled to God. And it is right here at this altar that we experience the most sublime gift Our Lord  left us – His sacred Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity in Eucharist.

So two thoughts to leave you with today –

First, get in the boat.  Humbly think with the Church.  Recall today’s collect, which Father Joe just prayed on our behalf: “O God, who cause the minds of the faithful to unite in a single purpose, grant your people to love what you command and to desire what you promise, that, amid the uncertainties of this world, our hearts may be fixed on that place where true gladness is found.”

Lord, help me to love what you command and desire what you promise.  Incline my heart according to your will, O God.  Give me the humility to realize that you came to save me, and left behind a Church and her holy Sacraments to safely lead me to live with you eternally in that place where true gladness is found.

Second, invite others to get in the boat.  He wants us with Him forever, and He gave us the great gift of our Catholic Faith to lead us there. When we realize what’s at stake – our eternal lives, our eternal gladness – how can we not reach out in love to invite others to get in the boat with us? The most hateful thing we can do is to leave people far from God, wallowing in sin, without hope.

Brothers and sisters, this is the way Our Lord wants to use us in this world – indeed it is our mission as Catholics, the mission Our Lord gave to our fathers and mothers in faith 2,000 years ago, and the mission we took up at our baptism – to go forth be His eternal life-saving presence in this world so increasingly far from Him.

It is indeed a great day to be a Catholic!

It is a great time to be Catholic!

Homily for the 20th Sunday in Ordinary Time, August 19/20 - St. Kateri at St. Cecilia

Today's scripture proclamations:  http://usccb.org/bible/readings/082017.cfm

"It is not right to take the food of the children and throw it to the dogs." From the mouth and lips of Our Blessed Lord.

I was thinking - that seems like an "un-Christian" thing to say to the woman, huh?  More or less calling her a dog.  I don’t know about you, but to my ears and brain, this has to be among the hardest Gospels to figure out.  Why would Our Blessed Lord, true God and true man, perfect in every way, seemingly insult this woman who’s come to Him begging for His help?

I did some reading and the only thing I’m sure of is that nobody can say for sure.  Investigating the original Greek language in which St. Matthew wrote the gospel, it’s clear that Our Lord didn’t mean dogs like a pack of dogs.  The Greek word Matthew uses has a meaning more like a small dog, a pet, a member of the family even. 

And I can relate to that because we have a small dog who’s always around the dinner table ready to pounce on whatever gets dropped (or secretly fed to her).  If that’s the case, then maybe what we take as an insult wasn’t meant to be an insult at all. 

But then again there’s the idea, and Matthew makes this clear, that Jesus is in a foreign district, Tyre and Sidon, and this woman is a foreigner. And not just any foreigner but a Canaanite.  The Canaanites versus the Jewish people – a conflict of hatred that went back centuries. 

We know from the parable of the Good Samaritan that the Jews not liking Samaritans, but to the Jewish community to whom Matthew was writing, well, he’s talking about someone despicable here.  And it was common for the Jews to speak of Canaanites as dogs – and not the household pet variety – this was demeaning and an insult.

And as an aside – Jesus is speaking here to a woman to boot – you’ll recall that it was forbidden to speak in public to a woman, doubly so to speak to a Canaanite woman – either would make you ritually unclean.

So that sets the picture – Our Lord Jesus speaking to this Canaanite woman – whom His disciples would probably have thought a dog – and after her pleading with Him, after her outwitting Him if you will with her response – “even the dogs eat the scraps from the table” – Jesus relents and cures her daughter at once.

This is no doubt a story of her great faith.  Some say it was a turning point, perhaps, in Jesus’ life or so goes one theory – when His eyes are opened not only to the lost sheep of Israel but to all humankind.

And it’s no doubt a story of the need to be persistent in prayer, of never giving up.  What mother would give up in seeking a cure for her daughter, even seeking the cure from a hated Israelite?

But I think the most important takeaway from this story is best framed in what’s happening right now in our own country.  Just like the bright dividing line that separated Jew from Canaanite, who is “in” and who is “out” - we have our own bright dividing lines, don’t we?  And in my lifetime I can’t recall this much intolerance, even hatred on the lips and faces of so many, shown for those on the other side of their line – for those “outside.” Intolerance of anyone with a differing opinion, huh?

Think of all the dividing lines – right, left. Democrat - Republican.  American – foreigner. Catholic - non-Catholic.  Black – white.  Christian – Muslim.  And I could go on.  Scary stuff.  It’s almost a little comforting to know that there were dividing lines in Jesus’ day, and Our Lord (or at least His disciples) were not immune from them.

But faced with this situation, what does Our Lord do?  He has a conversation – with someone on the other side of the line, someone He’s not supposed to be talking to.  He stops, He listens.  And He relents and heals.  He praises her great faith – she who twice calls Him Lord, and Son of David.  In place of hatred, He has sown love. He has made peace.

And He has blurred the dividing line, if not erased it.  Done something that must have shocked His disciples, but something that certainly taught them, too, taught them a new way. 

Sisters and brothers, He’s teaching you and me today as well.  Teaching us that blurring dividing lines is what you and I are called to do.  To focus not on what separates us but on what unites us in our common humanity – what we all have in common.  To follow Jesus, to blur those dividing lines, cross over in conversation, and bring the love and peace, the forgiveness of sin and the salvation bought by Christ’s blood, which we experience here, to all.

I was drawn in to a posting on Facebook the other day – it was entitled “50 groups of people Jesus said it’s OK to hate.”  Intrigued, I opened it, and stared reading, and scrolled down to the listing.  And it was fifty blank lines, numbered one to fifty.  Meaning Jesus gave us the OK to hate no one. 

“Love your enemies, pray for those who persecute you,” He commanded us.  It is incumbent on us, His followers, those who are to be light to the world and salt of the earth, to shine the light of His love into the darkness all around us.

Homily for Sunday, August 6, 2017 - Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord - 8 and 11 St. Kateri at St. Margaret Mary

Today's scripture readings:  http://usccb.org/bible/readings/080617.cfm

I’m fond, I suppose, of any mention of mountains in our Mass readings.  For the top of a mountain, any mountain, is my happy place, I’ve decided.  There are 115 high peaks in the Northeast – 48 here in New York, 67 in New England – I’ve hiked 63 of them, 7 this summer, and have 52 to go to say I’ve climbed them all.

One of the things that I most like about mountains is how old they are.  Sitting atop a wilderness high peak on a clear day, looking about at God’s creation all around, it’s not hard to imagine that what you’re looking at is pretty much the same thing you’d be seeing if you had been sitting there 10,000 years ago.  You get a sense for how small we are, how temporary we are, how fleeting our lives are.

And you get a sense, too, of the great power and glory of God, who created all the beauty you’re gazing upon from that lofty peak.  I get a real sense that He is God, the eternal creator, and I am not. Hiking mountains gives one a sense of getting away from our day-to-day lives, and in a real way encountering God.

That was the experience, I think, of Peter, James and John as they hiked up Mount Tabor with Our Blessed Lord.  They must have been curious, I think, about why they were hiking this mountain, without the others, and I think they must have been confused about who this Jesus guy was.  They’d given up everything to follow Him, yet they must have wondered at times why – what was He all about.  He was their friend, their confidant, their teacher – Rabbi – but still they must have been confused I think.

And now we know why they were going up the mountain – for there they were given proof that this man Jesus was not only human, but the Son of God Himself.  This was not just a nice hike but an encounter with the living God! His face bright as the sun. His clothes white as light.  Conversing with Elijah the prophet and Moses the bringer of the law.

“This is My beloved Son, with Whom I am well pleased,” said the Father from the cloud.  Here the three apostles are given not a glimpse but a clear high-def picture of who Jesus is - true man, true God.

So I suspect they had to have been completely blown away by what they witnessed – wouldn’t you be?  I know I would be.  Yeah I thought He was a pretty good guy, and He said some things about being “the One” but whoa – He really meant it!

And of course what happened on Mount Tabor wasn’t only for those three – it was for you and me as well.  Especially now, especially in this world we live in. 

It seems to me so much of our faith is focused on how close Jesus is to us – “imminent” is the word – and He is. And we sometimes think of Jesus as this friendly and nice and even fluffy guy – like singing Kumbaya around the campfire.  But how often do we stop to think of Him as “other,” as transcendent, as GOD?” 

Yes He is close to us, He understands our humanity because He walked and talked, was born and even died.  But do we really think of Him as God, as all Holy, which means “other” or “set apart.” Do we really think of Him in His dominion, power and kingship as the first reading speaks of Him?

We just prayed together to Him “You alone are the Holy One. You alone are the Lord.  You alone are the most high, Jesus Christ.”  Wonderful words of worship – but do we stop to dwell on what they mean?  Do we live those words – that He alone is the Holy One, the Lord of our lives?

Sisters and brothers, I think when we stop to ponder His otherness, we realize two things –

First we realize how utterly unworthy of Him we are in our sinfulness.  We get a sense of how wide the gulf is between God and humanity, in our sin.  How my sin offends God who is all good and all holy – offends Jesus who is all good and all holy.

In one version of the Act of Contrition which we pray in the Sacrament of Confession, in the presence of the priest, yes, but praying to Jesus Himself, we pray “O my God I am heartily sorry for having offended you.” 

And we go on “and I detest all my sins because of thy just punishment but most of all because they offend you, my God, who are all good and deserving of all my love.”

Jesus, the eternal Son of God, with Whom the Father is well-pleased, is offended by our sins, because He is God, is all good, all holy, deserving of all my love.  Am I just as offended by my sins, such that I’m resolved to stop sinning so as to please Him rather than offend Him? Glorify Him rather than forget Him?

Considering His glory, His kingship, we might ask ourselves - am I giving Him all my love?  Do I give Him all my worship?  Do I give Him all my life?  Or do I give Him a little piece of my life, my love, my worship, content to worship other things too? Is He my Lord?  Am I letting Him change me, change my life, transfigure my life so that I more and more closely follow after Him?

The second thing is - if we really ponder His otherness, we’ll fall on our knees in thankfulness, that this eternal Son of God, through Whom all things were made, in His great love would condescend to become one of us, to be born of woman, to live and teach and suffer and die – and why?  For you. For me. To save us from our sins. 

We should be filled with awe and thanksgiving that the eternal Son of God, Jesus, out of great love, with great mercy, would come and stand in the abyss between humanity and God, and be a bridge between God and man.  Taking our sins unto Himself and reuniting God and man. Yes – He loves us that much.

Thankfulness is the only proper response when we realize the great gift we’ve received in being invited to be His disciples, to receive His love and mercy, to have Him who is God call us “friend.” Thankfulness and worship are why we gather here at this altar to celebrate Eucharist, which means “thankfulness.” 

Yes, thankfulness is the only proper response to His gift, and resolve, too.  Resolve to live lives more and more worthy of such a gift.  And to share that gift with others.  To share our faith in the eternal Son of God with others, to share the love He pours into our hearts with others, and to share our hope.

Hope that one day, purged of all our sins and made holy, you and I too may stand before the throne of God, our clothes white as light, our faces shining like the sun, our lives transfigured by the life, the love, the mercy of His only begotten Son, Our Lord and eternal Savior, Jesus Christ.

Homily for the Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity - June 10/11 - 4:30p, 10a at Christ the King; 8a at St. Margaret Mary

Today's scripture proclamations:   http://usccb.org/bible/readings/061117.cfm

Today we celebrate the solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity, and the word I want you to remember from today’s Feast is “Communion.”  Communion is defined as a mutual participation in a relationship, a mutual sharing, a fellowship if you will.  We speak of the marriage of husband and wife as a “communion of persons.” We speak of the Church as a Communion.  And today we celebrate that our God, who is One and three, is a Communion.  A Communion of persons, Father, Son and Holy Spirit.  An intimate union, in eternal relationship, an eternal relationship of life-giving love.

For much of our 2000 year history, Holy Mother Church has been trying to come up with an adequate way of explaining this mystery of Divine Communion, this mystery of Trinity.  St. Patrick famously used the shamrock leaf.  There’s a Greek word perichoresis used to describe the Trinity – it means roughly “to dance around with” – so we have the image of the three persons in an eternal, ecstatic dance. Pope St. John Paul II and others have used the metaphor of marriage - a man and wife whose love is so intense and life-giving that a third person is generated.

That’s great – what does that have to do with you and me?  Well, it’s this – you  and I are invited into this Communion, this eternal Divine love relationship.  God’s love is so extravagant, so overflowing that you and I, while created beings, not ourselves Divine, and while we are still sinners, by no merit of our own, are invited to enter in to this Communion. That’s the very definition of heaven, isn’t it? – to eternally share in the Divine love of Father, Son and Holy Spirit. To eternally share their love, their joy, their bliss. To eternally enter into that ecstatic dance.

That, sisters and brothers, is what you and I were created for. That’s the reason for our existence.  It’s what we should long for, ache for, live our entire lives for.  The goal of human life, wrote Pope St. John Paul II, is “fullness of communion with God,” “…a living relationship with the Holy Trinity.”

The cool thing is that that Communion, that sharing in the Divine life, which we also call grace - starts now – actually it started at our baptisms when we were baptized in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

Now we don’t experience the complete bliss of heaven here, to be sure, for here we experience sin, suffering and death.  Those are the very things that Our Lord came to save us from.  Not so that we wouldn’t experience them, but so that we would transcend them.  “God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life.”

But here’s the thing.  Contrary to what you might think after reading the book or watching the movie “The Shack,” not everyone goes to heaven.  Not everyone believes in Him.  And many who claim belief in Him live lives far from that belief.

You see, you and I as baptized Catholics have an obligation to remain in Communion.  Communion with our Trinity God, and Communion with the Church as His instrument of our salvation.  We must submit our minds, hearts and wills to God and the teaching of His Church.  “Incline my heart according to your will, O God.”

And to stay in Communion means to stay in a state of grace, meaning not conscious of the stain of grave sin - mortal sin - sin so serious that it fractures our relationship with God, puts us outside, if you will, that Communion. 

Mortal sin - probably haven’t heard that term in awhile. Three things make a sin mortal –serious or grave matter, it must be done with full knowledge (yes, I know this is a sin and I’m going to do it anyway), and it must be done with complete free consent.  Serious matter, knowledge, free consent.  That kind of sin is kind of an “in your face” to God, a rejection of relationship with Him, cuts off Communion with the Trinity, cuts off sanctifying grace.

Examples of grave matter – murder, theft, abortion, false witness, sexual sins like adultery, contraception, pornography, fornication – any sexual intimacy outside the confines of Christian one-man, one-woman marriage.  Jealousy, greed, blasphemy.  Those are sins of commission.  Our Blessed Lord in Matthew’s Gospel lists grave sins of omission – failure to feed the poor, give drink to the thirsty, care for the sick, clothe the naked, welcome the stranger.

Another mortal sin is receiving Our Lord’s Sacred Body and Blood in a state of mortal sin.  The Church teaches that we ought not approach the altar if we’re conscious of grave sin, for to so we “eat and drink judgment on ourselves,” as the Apostle Paul teaches.

As an aside, Bishop Matano announced this week that next Sunday, the Feast of Corpus Christi, will begin a Year of the Eucharist, in which we the Church of Rochester will focus with renewed zeal and love on the magnificent gift our Lord has given us in His Sacred Body and Blood, the source and summit of our Faith.  One aspect of his pastoral letter concerns the necessity of our approaching the altar worthily.  While Pope Francis has written that the Eucharist isn’t to be a prize for perfect people, and who is perfect? but, indeed, we believe that if by our serious sins we have severed our relationship with our Triune God, we should come forward for a blessing but not receive.

Now if heaven is eternal Communion with Father, Son and Holy Spirit, we have a word for what it’s called to be eternally outside that Communion – hell - another word we seldom talk about. Pope Francis regularly preaches about it - hell is real, and if you or I die in a state of mortal sin, outside a state of grace, tragically that’s where you or I will spend eternity, separated from God.

The very good news of the Gospel ,the very good news of THIS Gospel, is that God desperately loves us, desperately wants for that not to happen. God so loved the world that He sent His only Son so that we might not perish but might have eternal life – heaven. 

How desperately does God love us?  Look upon the crucifix, look at what Jesus suffered for us, to save us.  That is how much He loves us and wants to spend eternity with us, doesn’t want to lose any of us, that any of us ever be outside that Communion.  He loves us with a father’s firm hand and a mother’s gentle, tender, compassionate love.  He knows that we simply can’t do it on our own, that we need to be saved, and that is why the Father sent His only Son, to suffer, die and rise again so that you and I may be saved, healed, restored, sanctified, made holy.

The world out there tells us there’s no such thing as sin.  But if there’s no sin, then there’s no need of a Savior.  No need of Jesus Christ.  I don’t know about you, but I desperately need a Savior!

The confessional, the Sacrament of Reconciliation, is the specific place He gave us for being restored to saving grace, the place where we experience the Lord’s exquisite loving mercy.  Where if I approach with a contrite heart and firm intent to amend my life, to “go and sin no more” as Our Lord gently commanded the woman caught in adultery, then I hear those beautiful words of absolution - that He has forgiven me, restored me to grace, restored me to Communion with Him and with His Father in the Spirit. So let’s get to confession before coming to Holy Communion if we are ever conscious of grave sin, if we are ever outside a state of grace.

Why? You might remember eight years ago a plane crashed just outside Buffalo, killing all fifty or so on board.  One of the victims worked for a man I know, and I called this man once the victims’ names were announced to offer my condolences, and this man, a faithful Catholic, said words to me that I’ve never forgotten.  Ed, he said, “state of grace, just in case.”  Meaning, we don’t know the hour we’ll be called from this life.

Brothers and sisters, let us pray, let us ask Our Lord for the zeal and deep desire to spend eternity with Him.  And to allow Him, in the confessional and here at the altar of His Sacred Body and Blood, to strengthen us in holiness, preparing us for that glorious day when we enter into the mystery of the Trinity, when we fully enter into the eternal, joyful, blissful Communion of love with our God who is Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.