Good Friday - The Cross = True Love

Location: Saint Joseph Catholic Church (Earlville, IA) – 3 p.m. Good Friday Liturgy

Date: Friday April 18^th, 2014 (Good Friday of the Lord’s Passion)

READINGS:

1^st Reading: Isaiah 52:13-53:12

Resp. Psalm: Ps. 31:2, 6, 12-13, 15-16, 17, 25

2^nd Reading: Hebrews 4:14-16; 5:7-9

Gospel: John 18:1-19:42

FOCUS: Jesus loved us so much that He was willing to suffer to save us and bring us back to God. 

FUNCTION: Be willing to suffer for the sake of Christ; remain always steadfast in your faith. 

          Let’s face it: it’s not popular to be a Catholic.  We’re living in a day and age that is “spiritual, but not religious.”  The wider culture is more open to New Age spirituality than Christianity; any mention of God is stifled in the midst of public discourse; certain groups of people attempted to have the phrase, “under God,” removed from the Pledge of Allegiance; the religious meanings behind the celebrations of Easter, Halloween, and Christmas, for instance, have all been replaced by secular meanings (or no meaning at all); it’s popular to portray Christians in TV, film, and the wider media as insensitive and intolerant; and we’ve all experienced the pressure to conform more to the message of the world rather than the message of the Gospel. 

          Good Friday reminds us that it’s not popular to be Catholic, to be one of the Lord’s disciples.  But we’re not Catholic because we’re trying to be popular; we’re Catholic because of what Christ accomplished for us.  Good Friday reminds us that Christ suffered in order to save us and bring us back to God.

          I’m struck every year by the words of the “Song of the Suffering Servant” from the first reading:  “He was spurned and avoided by people,/ a man of suffering, accustomed to infirmity,/ one of those from whom people hide their faces,/ spurned, and we held him in no esteem./  Yet it was our infirmities that he bore,/ our sufferings that he endured,/ while we thought of him as stricken,/ as one smitten by God and afflicted./  But he was pierced for our offenses,/ crushed for our sins;/ upon him was the chastisement that makes us whole,/ by his stripes we were healed./  We had all gone astray like sheep,/ each following his own way;/ but the LORD laid upon him/ the guilt of us all.”

          Sometimes we take the cross and Jesus’ passion for granted.  Sometimes we think of Jesus as so divine that we forget about His true humanity – how He felt every one of the lashes when He was scourged; how He felt the pain of the crown of thorns as the thorns pierced His flesh and were pushed into His skull; how the rocks along the way of the cross felt under His feet; how it felt to have large nails driven into His hands and feet.  Sometimes we forget these things.  Sometimes we forget that our salvation came with a price – the sacrifice of the Lord’s Body and Blood, offered up for us first in the institution of the Eucharist on Holy Thursday and then on the cross on Good Friday.

          Good Friday is supposed to inspire us to love the Lord with our whole heart, mind, and soul, and to love our neighbor as ourselves; the Lord willingly gave up His life for each of us.  Each of us is known and loved by God.  Jesus was willing to submit to the suffering of the cross for the sake of our salvation, because He loved us with an undying love. 

          True love must always hurt, it must always cost something, and it must always push us outside ourselves.  The cross that we celebrate today is God’s most profound declaration of love.  He did no spare His only Son, but gave Him up to death for our sake.  So what can we do in response to so great a love?  We can live our faith; we can share our faith with those who do not yet know the Lord; and we can be willing to suffer for the sake of our faith when believing in Christ makes us unpopular.  May our celebration of Good Friday inspire us to love God and to love others more generously each day.                  

How we Treat the Poor is How we Treat Christ

Here's this weekend's homily.  Questions, comments, thoughts, criticisms, corrections, etc. are all welcome!

Location: Basilica of Saint Francis Xavier (Dyersville, IA) – 5 p.m. Saturday

                 Saint Joseph Catholic Church (Earlville, IA) – 8 a.m. Sunday Mass

                 Saint Boniface Catholic Church (New Vienna, IA) – 10 a.m. Sunday Mass

Date: Sunday September 29^th, 2013 (26^th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C)

READINGS:

1^st Reading: Amos 6:1a, 4-7
Resp. Psalm: Ps. 146:7, 8-9, 9-10
2^nd Reading: 1^st Timothy 6:11-16
Gospel: Luke 16:19-31

FOCUS: Especially as Christians, we are called to serve the poor in our midst.  

FUNCTION: Defend the lives of the unborn; get involved in outreach to Haiti.  

          Ever since his election as Pope on March 13^th, 2013, Pope Francis has been shaking things up in the Catholic world.  Many people praise him; some people criticize him; but everyone is captivated by what this Pope is doing and saying.  After his first appearance on the balcony of St. Peter’s Basilica, taking the name Francis, many people wondered what inspired him to take the name; they wanted to know which “Francis” inspired him: was it St. Francis Xavier, the great Jesuit missionary; or was it St. Francis de Sales, the great Doctor of the Church and master of the spiritual life; or was it St. Francis of Assisi, the rich young man who chose poverty as a way to renew the Church?

          In an address given to journalists just three days after his election, the Pope himself offered the journalists an explanation for why he took the name Francis; these are the Pope’s own words: “During the election, I was seated next to the Archbishop Emeritus of São Paolo and Prefect Emeritus of the Congregation for the Clergy, Cardinal Claudio Hummes: a good friend, a good friend!  When things were looking dangerous, he encouraged me.  And when the votes reached two thirds, there was the usual applause, because the Pope had been elected. And he gave me a hug and a kiss, and said: “Don’t forget the poor!”  And those words came to me: the poor, the poor.  Then, right away, thinking of the poor, I thought of Francis of Assisi.  Then I thought of all the wars, as the votes were still being counted, till the end.  Francis is also the man of peace.  That is how the name came into my heart: Francis of Assisi.”

          The Pope took the name Francis (a name never before chosen by a Pope) because of St. Francis of Assisi, who he says was “the man of poverty, the man of peace, the man who loves and protects creation…”  And in his short time as Pope, he has clearly acted on his initial inspiration.  He has spoken often of the need for us to be concerned about the poor, about peace, about welcoming strangers and offering hospitality to those who are marginalized by society.  The Pope speaks about these subjects quite regularly in his “tweets” on Twitter; on Sept. 21^st, Pope Francis tweeted, “True charity requires courage: let us overcome the fear of getting our hands dirty so as to help those in need.”  And on Sept. 24^th he tweeted, “Let us ask the Lord to give us the gentleness to look upon the poor with understanding and love, devoid of human calculation and fear.”  I think we can expect that this concern for the poor – in imitation of St. Francis of Assisi – will be a constant theme of Pope Francis’ pontificate.

          And truly, concern for the poor needs to be a constant concern for all of us as Christians; Jesus’ parable in today’s Gospel – addressed to the Pharisees – is a sobering message for all of us: we need to take care of the poor in our midst.  We can’t simply step around them or ignore them – as we might imagine the rich man did in Jesus’ parable; we need to acknowledge them at our door, go outside, and treat them like human beings.  The poor have names, faces, family, hopes, dreams, desires, and needs; the poor are human beings who have been made in the image and likeness of Almighty God. 

          In Matthew 25, Jesus even identifies Himself with the lowliest members of society; He says, “For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me,” (Matthew 25:35-36).  And the main point of Jesus’ teaching is this: “Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me,” (see Matthew 25:40).           

          And the poor are all around us.  Wherever we see the faces of the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the ill, and those in prison – there we find the poor and the most vulnerable; and there we find Christ.  It all comes down to this: how we treat the poor is how we treat Christ.  Are we generous with helping those in need?  Do we look on the poor and the less fortunate with love and empathy, or do we despise them, treat them harshly, and degrade them?  We need to examine our lives; because how we treat the poor is how we treat Christ.

          I’d like to recommend two ways we can help to serve the poor in our midst.  The first is the annual 40 Days for Life campaign that started this past Wednesday September 25^th and goes through Sunday November 3^rd.  The official mission and vision statement from their website, 40daysforlife.com, says that, “40 Days for Life is a focused pro-life campaign with a vision to access God’s power through prayer, fasting, and peaceful vigil to end abortion.  The mission of the campaign is to bring together the body of Christ in a spirit of unity during a focused 40 day campaign of prayer, fasting, and peaceful activism, with the purpose of repentance, to seek God’s favor to turn hearts and minds from a culture of death to a culture of life, thus bringing an end to abortion.”  Preborn babies in the womb are the most poor and vulnerable members of society; we can work to defend the right to life of these children through a witness of love for both mothers and their children by praying in front of the Planned Parenthood building in Dubuque.  Getting involved in this wonderful campaign is a good way to help poor and defenseless babies – and their mothers – choose life and get help.  

          Another way to help the poor is to help St. Francis Xavier’s sister parish, Holy Cross, in Fonds-Verettes, Haiti.  Every year, a team of 10-15 parishioners go down to Haiti to bring clothes, medical supplies, personal hygiene products, and much more to the people living in abject poverty in Haiti.  Reaching out to the people in Haiti helps you realize that each poor person has a face, a name, and a story.  St. Francis Xavier’s Haiti Fund is always in need of donations to help the people of Haiti have the basic necessities of life.  Offering a donation to the fund, volunteering to make the trip down to Haiti, or donating needed supplies is a good, concrete way to help the poor who are so in need of our assistance.

          The poor are all around us; we must not neglect them or turn a blind eye to their needs; because how we treat the poor is how we treat Christ.       

Christ the King: Not Your Average Monarch

Homily for the Solemnity of Christ the King (Year A)

READINGS:

First Reading: Ezekiel 34:11-12, 15-17

Responsorial Psalm: Ps. 23:1-2, 2-3, 5-6

Second Reading: 1 Corinthians 15:20-26, 28

Gospel: Matthew 25:31-46

FOCUS: Christ the King comes to us through the lowliest members of society.

FUNCTION: How do we respond to the lowliest members of society around us?

            Today we celebrate a great occasion: the Solemnity of our Lord Jesus Christ the King, aka, the last Sunday in Ordinary Time.  There’s something quite grand and magnificent about the last Sunday in Ordinary Time being the Solemnity of Christ the King.  After all, in America, we’re all a little intrigued by royalty, by the concept of kings and queens.  Just recently, many people here in America undoubtedly watched “the Royal Wedding” of Prince William and Kate Middleton.  And although I did not see it personally, I know it got a lot of attention, and probably rightfully so; after all, it’s not every day that a member of England’s royal family gets married, and much less to a woman “of common birth.”

          In late December of 2010 and early January of this year, I was privileged to go to London and see the different sights and learn more about English history.  One place we got to see was the Tower of London: the place where, among other things, the crown jewels of the royal family are kept.  It’s quite an impressive sight.  Those jewels are clearly of great value. 

          In order to see the crown jewels, you have to get on a moving walkway, and so you really can’t look at them for too long (probably for obvious reasons!).  And as you go through the building, you also get to see footage of the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II, the current reigning monarch of England, the daughter of King George VI.  (As a side note, if you haven’t seen the film, “The King’s Speech,” about the father of Queen Elizabeth II, I do recommend it).  Anyway, it’s quite an impressive sight to see if you ever get the chance to visit London.

          OK, that’s all well and good, but what’s any of that got to do with the Solemnity of Christ the King?  In short: everything, but only by way of contrast.  You see, the readings we’re presented with today, and particularly the Gospel, give us an entirely different image of royalty than the image of royalty given to us by England’s royal family (no offense to the royal family, of course).  Rather, the image of royalty in the Gospel is that of a King, Jesus Christ, who identifies Himself not with the rich and the powerful, but rather with the poor and the lowly.

          Sure, the Gospel starts off with grand overtones: “When the Son of Man comes in His glory, and all the angels with him, He will sit upon His glorious throne, and all the nations will be assembled before Him.”  Now that must be an impressive sight!  And like a shepherd, He will separate them from each other: some of them (those referred to as “sheep”) He placed on His right, signifying a place of honor, while others (those referred to as “goats”) He placed on His left, signifying a place of shame.

          And then He speaks to the sheep, and suddenly the image of Christ the King changes dramatically.  He enumerates what we call the “corporal works of mercy”: feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, welcoming the stranger, clothing the naked, caring for the ill, and visiting those in prison.  The “sheep,” aka the righteous, are confused by this, because they willingly did all these things, but never realized who it was they were serving.  And then Christ the King gives them the real twist: “Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of Mine, you did for Me.”  Now there’s something they didn’t expect!  In serving “the least” of society, they were actually serving Christ. 

          But Christ the King’s judgment for the people on His left doesn’t look good:  He judges that they failed to serve Him in the lowliest members of society.  Maybe they thought they were serving Christ, but perhaps they were more comfortable with the image of Christ as King than with the image of Christ as personified in the lowliest and weakest members of society.  They thought they were serving Christ, but maybe they were really only serving themselves.  To this group, Christ the King has harsh words: “Amen, I say to you, what you did not do for one of these least ones, you did not do for Me.”

          And then the final judgment of the two groups is made known: “And these (i.e., those on His left) will go off to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.”  But maybe we’re all still a little confused.  After all, this is a rather confusing story: Jesus is a King, but He’s also identified Himself with the lowliest and “the least” members of society; some people are called sheep, some people are called goats; the sheep didn’t know they were serving Christ, but actually were; the goats thought they were serving Christ, but may have just been serving themselves. And then there are the heated political questions about how we treat the weakest and the lowliest in our midst; there’s some mention of the devil and his angels; some people face a sentence of eternal punishment, while others face a reward of eternal life.  It’s all very confusing.

          Or maybe not.  Maybe it all boils down to a simple question: Do we really love God, and if so, does that love compel us to love our neighbors also?  After all, that’s what real love is all about, right?  If we say we love God, but fail to love our neighbor, is our love for God real?  The Bible has a simple answer: “No!”  Love of God, if it is divorced from love of neighbor, is not really love of God at all. 

          This is where the “spiritual warfare” of the Christian life really happens.  Our enemy, whom we call Satan or the Devil, would like us to believe that it’s possible for us to love God without really loving or caring for our neighbor.  It’s such an insidious and dark and terrible idea, that love of God and love of neighbor could ever be separated.  But that’s the Evil One’s plan: if he can get people to think that they can love God without really loving their neighbor, then those same people might end up condemning themselves to the Devil’s same fate: the eternal fires of hell.  And certainly we see the Devil being pretty successful with this plan.  Every day, people who claim to love God are constantly ignoring or side-stepping the people around them who are in need. 

          My dear brothers and sisters, this must not be so among us.  Christ the King doesn’t come to us looking like members of England’s royal family.  In this life, we will not see Him dressed in fine, royal clothing, holding jewels that resemble England’s crown jewels.  We will not see Him or find Him among the well-to-do.  But we will see Him hungry and thirsty, a stranger and naked, ill and in prison.  And how will we respond then?

          Responding to Christ in our midst starts here and now, at this Holy Mass.  When we come up to receive Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, and we say “Amen,” let’s allow that “Amen,” that “Yes,” to be an affirmation not only of our faith in the Real Presence of Jesus in the Eucharist, but an “Amen,” a “Yes,” to being people who also love for neighbor in word and deed.  Christ the King is among us here and now, in our neighbor, and we will meet Him when we step out of the doors of this Church.  Let’s not neglect Him.  Let’s not overlook Him.  Let’s care for Him in the people we meet, so that we, too, might be among the righteous….. at the right hand of Jesus Christ, our Lord and King.