Homily for the Fifth Sunday of Lent

If you’re like me, you probably forget a lot of things. It seems like the more important something is, the easier it is to forget. Sadly, however, it seems to be nearly impossible to forget past mistakes that we’ve made: bad decisions, poor choices of words, errors of judgment and so on. Sometimes we might forget some of our past, but remember very clearly a grievance or grudge against someone else for a mistake which they committed.

One theme we see in today’s readings is a call by both the prophet Isaiah and St. Paul to forget the past. Both encourage us to look to the future, seeing that God is “doing something new” and “straining forward to what lies ahead.” St. Paul takes this further, telling us, “I continue my pursuit toward the goal, the prize of God’s upward calling, in Christ Jesus.

What is this goal, this prize of which St. Paul speaks? He is speaking of the righteousness of Christ, through which we receive the mercy of God. We see this when St. Paul tells us that he does “not [have] any righteousness of my own based on the law but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God”.

In speaking of the “righteousness from God”, St. Paul is saying that what has brought him into right relationship with God is not following the Mosaic Law of the Jewish Covenant, but entering into and following his faith in Our Lord Jesus Christ. In effect, St. Paul is describing for us the difference between how the scribes and Pharisees approached the woman caught in adultery, and how Jesus approached her.

When the woman was brought before Our Lord, the scribes and Pharisees wanted to put Him in an impossible trap. In response to their statement “Moses commanded us to stone such women,” they wanted to force Him to break either the Law given by God the Father to Moses, or the Roman secular law that reserved the death penalty to the Roman authorities. Either way they could denounce Him as either a false prophet and Roman sympathizer or as a revolutionary who sought to overturn Roman rule in the Jewish Promised Land.

Our Lord obviously saw through the test, and showed them a better way. Instead of condemning the woman, as the scribes and Pharisees wished, He offered her mercy and forgiveness of sins. By doing so, He showed us that the path to salvation no longer comes through strict observance of the Law, but through the mercy of God.

It’s important to remember that God’s mercy is not something we need only once in our lives, but needs to be sought and received constantly throughout our lives. St. Paul speaks of the resurrection from the dead, which we receive through God’s mercy and love, saying, “It is not that I have already taken hold of it or have already attained perfect maturity, but I continue my pursuit in hope that I may possess it.” If St. Paul, who had been called by Christ personally after Our Lord’s resurrection was still in need of God’s mercy, how much more are we in need of that mercy.

The problem with human nature is that we still have the desire to test God’s mercy. Now, it’s not like we’re trying to trap Jesus as the scribes and Pharisees did. No, we test Him when we put off seeking His mercy, as St. Augustine did in his famous quote, “Give me chastity and continency, only not yet.” We test Him when we allow ourselves to sink deeper and deeper into sin without seeking His mercy.

Instead of avoiding God’s mercy, we need to seek it and desire it with all our hearts. One theme that kept coming up throughout the conference this weekend in Billings was the power of the Divine Mercy Chaplet. Through this prayer, which can be prayed very quickly and is easily memorized, God’s mercy floods the world, filling the souls of those who pray it and those for whom the Chaplet has been prayed. It is a simple prayer, but one of the most powerful for asking God to “have mercy on us and on the whole world.” I would encourage all of you to learn this prayer, if you don’t know it already, and to pray it daily, especially with your families.

As this Lenten season quickly approaches its conclusion and we prepare for Holy Week, may we seek God’s mercy in abundance instead of testing Him as the scribes and Pharisees did.

Homily for the Fourth Sunday of Lent

Do we have an awareness of how sin affects us and others? Do we even know what sin is? When we look around us at our culture and nation, sometimes it’s easy to wonder if anyone actually believes in sinful actions any more. About the only things that seem to be considered “sinful” are polluting the environment, not recycling your trash, and speaking against a politically-correct world view. Sinful actions that were considered unthinkable even 30 years ago are now considered accepted and some are even considered a normal part of life.

While our culture has developed a distorted view of sin, we as Christians are still called to a higher morality, where sin is a fact of our daily lives. During this season of Lent, we need to remind ourselves once again that we are sinful beings in need of reconciliation with God. Every sin we commit is like placing a barrier between us and God, preventing us from receiving the gift of His grace that He wishes to bestow upon us. Like a dam in a river, sin prevents those graces from flowing freely into our souls.

We can see this in the actions of the Prodigal Son in today’s Gospel. The younger son, wishing to living a life of sinful excess, cut himself off from his father, squandering his share of the father’s estate in another country. Of course, the only time we worry about someone’s estate is after their death, so requesting half of the estate is like the son telling the father, “As far as I’m concerned, you’re dead.”

While I think most parents would be offended if their children said to them, “Give me my inheritance now, because you’re dead to me,” and rightly so, we are in effect saying that God is dead to us every time we commit a sin in words or deeds. Even the smallest venial sin can restrict our openness to God’s grace, and can eventually completely block us from God. Every mortal sin we commit cuts us off from the flow of God’s grace as completely as turning off the kitchen faucet. This is not a state that we want our souls to be in when we die, as it will have eternal consequences.

We are not without hope, however, that sin will have a hold on us forever. According to St. Paul, God “has reconciled us to himself through Christ and given us the ministry of reconciliation.” Like the father in the Gospel who forgave without even allowing the younger son to finish his confession of guilt, God is ready and willing to offer His forgiveness if we but approach Him and ask for it.

Our Heavenly Father wants to reconcile us with him, removing the blocks of sin and restoring the flow of graces into our souls. God created us to spend eternity with Him in Heaven, and He wants to give us every opportunity in this life to receive the inheritance that He promised us. This is so important to God that, as St. Paul says, “For our sake He made Him to be sin who did not know sin,” that is Jesus, the Son of God, “so that we might become the righteousness of God in Him.” Through His Death and Resurrection, Jesus took on the punishment for our sins so that we can enter into the Kingdom of God when our lives on Earth are over.

Notice, however, that the father in the parable did not go out seeking the younger son, but waited for the son to come to him. In the same way, we need to have true sorrow for our sins, as the younger son did during his time tending the swine. The younger son then returned to the father and asked for forgiveness. We too need to turn to God in our remorse and ask forgiveness for our sins.

We need to be careful that we don’t fall into the erroneous mindset that all we have to do is be “really sorry,” ask God to forgive our sins, and we’re good to go. I’ve heard many non-Catholics and even some Catholics state this idea or something similar. Jesus established the Church to be the normal means that God uses for our salvation. For that reason, He has given us the Sacrament of Confession as the normal way by which God provides his forgiveness and reconciliation, hence “Sacrament of Reconciliation” as an alternate name for this sacrament.

I know I’ve talked about the Sacrament of Confession before, but it needs to be said again and again. Our Heavenly Father really is waiting for us to return to Him with contrite hearts, but we have to be the ones to take that first step. Through the Sacrament of Confession, we can return to God, and hear Him say, to paraphrase the father of the Prodigal Son, “You were lost, and have been found.

Why I’m not having penance services

Every year about this time, priests in some regions start gathering for the nearly ubiquitous Penance Services. These services are often in the evenings, and contain the Liturgy of the Word with a short reflection or homily and an examination of conscience. Then, if the service is run properly, the gathered priests will disperse to various parts of the church for private confession and absolution. After a short closing prayer once all confessions have been heard, assuming anyone is left other than the priests, the people disperse to their homes and priests to their parishes.

In themselves, the penance service can be a good thing, encouraging those who may not regularly receive the Sacrament of Confession. However, I’ve been seeing a trend, at least in this diocese, that regular use of Confession has all but been lost. I’ve spoken to parishioners who feel that the only time they need to confess their sins is when the parish has its Lenten or Advent penance service. These penance services have all but replaced regularly scheduled opportunities for confession in many parishes.

In contrast to this view, we need to be receiving the Sacrament of Confession more often, not less. Canon Law requires that all Catholics over the age of reason (generally about 7 years old) have to confess their grave sins at least once a year. To truly grow spiritually and receive the benefit of the graces that come from confession, we need to confess more frequently. I usually advise lay people that once a month is a good idea, even if they do not have grave sin on their souls.

Of course, this is where I run into problems with the mindset behind penance services. If Catholics regularly confessed their sins, a penance service would be another opportunity to receive the sacrament, and to do it in a communal manner. The practice I’ve been seeing is to consider the two penance services a year to be sufficient. Of course, this leaves a large part of the year in which the Sacrament of Confession isn’t being received. It usually works out that they will attend the Advent service in December and the Lenten service in March, but will not receive the Sacrament of Confession between the start of April and the end of November.

What can we do instead of penance services to overcome this two times a year mindset? First, I’m working to increase the amount of time I’m easily available for hearing confessions. Before and after daily Masses and scheduled times throughout the week, I will be in the church, if not the confessional itself, for the purpose of hearing confessions. My hope is by making the sacrament readily available, more Catholics will avail themselves of it.

Second, I’ve preached on the Sacrament of Confession before, and will continue to do so on a regular basis. In fact, that’s how I conclude my homily this week. In recent years, catechesis has suffered within the Catholic Church in the United States, and many Catholics may not be aware of the need for regular reception of the Sacrament of Confession. This is especially serious if they have grave sins on their soul which they have never had the opportunity to confess.

The Sacrament of Confession should be an important part of any Catholic’s life, but has seemed to diminish rapidly in importance. Sadly, I don’t see penance services helping this situation. Instead they appear to accelerate the problem.

Homily for the Third Sunday of Lent

Our Scripture passages today seem to be a continuance of last week’s readings. If you remember from last week, we saw the Transfiguration of the Lord, during which Our Lord’s Passion was seen as His “exodus”. This theme is continued in our first reading today, with the calling of Moses, but the second reading from St. Paul and today’s Gospel provide some warnings for those of us who follow Our Lord on His exodus.

As I said last week, Israel’s Exodus which freed them from the slavery of Egypt is a foreshadowing of Our Lord’s Passion, Death, and Resurrection which frees us from the slavery to sin. The first reading from the Book of Exodus today shows the promise of God that He will fulfill the covenant He made with the patriarchs Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. If the Israelites are willing to follow Moses, whom God has sent, they will enter into “a land flowing with milk and honey.

While all the Israelites received the gifts of food and drink from God to sustain them during the Exodus, St. Paul reminds us that many of the Israelites were not faithful to God. These unfaithful Israelites were not allowed to enter into the Promised Land, perishing in the desert. Even Moses himself was only allowed to view the Promised Land from afar, dying before the Israelites set foot within the land.

For those of us who profess to follow Christ, we also have been given the promise of “a land flowing with milk and honey.” Unlike the Israelites’ Promised Land, ours is an eternal reward for being faithful to the New Covenant that Jesus established here on Earth. When we were baptized, we entered into that covenant, following Christ through His new exodus.

Just as the Israelites had to remain faithful to God throughout their Exodus to enter into the Promised Land, we too have to remain faithful throughout our exodus. St. Paul tells us that what happened to the Israelites “happened as examples for us, so that we might not desire evil things, as they did,” and “have been written down as a warning to us.” We need to look at the example of those Israelites who were unfaithful to God’s commands to understand what will happen to those who are unfaithful to His commands today.

Those of us who are faithful do not have reason to gloat over those who may have fallen from following God’s path. St. Paul reminds us, “whoever thinks he is standing secure should take care not to fall.” We need to be constantly aware of our own sinfulness and not think of our salvation as a one-time-good thing. Even if we are regularly doing the “right” things, we need to make sure that we don’t become prideful, but allow the graces of God to work through us to change our sinful desires.

There was an idea running throughout the history of the Jewish Covenant that God will curse in this life those who are unfaithful to His covenant. This is most clear in the Book of Job when his friends were sure that his sorrows had to be caused by sins Job had committed. We also see this idea in how people at the time of Jesus reacted to the deaths in Galilee and Siloam, thinking them as punishment for their sins.

Jesus very clearly rejects this idea, stating that those who died were no worse sinners than those who were listening to Him speak. He tells them, “If you do not repent, you will all perish as they did!” We need to listen to these words as well, and need to repent from our sins. We may not be punished in this life if we do not, but Jesus is clear that we will be punished in the next for failure to repent.

How do we repent from our sins and ensure that we are following God’s commands? Our Lord gave us the tool that we need: the Sacrament of Confession. When we confess our sins sacramentally, we will receive the forgiveness of God and make true repentance for our sins. In order to properly use this tool, we must daily examine our consciences, finding those sins which have the most effect on our lives. We also must make regular confession – at least once a month – a part of our routines, and ask God for the grace to dig the roots of sin out of our souls.

When we are faithful to repentance for our sins throughout our entire lives, we will enter into the eternal Promised Land at the end of our exodus on Earth just as the faithful Israelites entered into their Promised Land.

Vocation Story part 5 – Seminary Discernment

In many vocation stories, the story ends at this point. The one who discerned the vocation will say, “I entered the seminary, sure of my vocation, and became a priest. The End.” While I wish I could say that, I can’t. I entered the seminary not sure if it truly was my call, and not sure if I even wanted to answer that call if it was.

After sending in the application, I had to break the news to my employer that I would be resigning my employment with them. The response from the HR person that I spoke to was, “I can compete with any offer from another company, but how do you compete with God?” In the back of my mind, I was thinking the same thing. How do you compete with God?

I moved out of my apartment where I had been living for two years, and loaded everything I owned into a rental trailer hooked to the back of my truck. I was hoping for an uneventful move, which was not to be. The transmission on the truck went out, necessitating the change to a rental truck with my truck on a trailer. I got the truck and my stuff home, but the repair shop in my hometown did a poor job on the new transmission. The speedometer was thrown off (as a not-so-friendly Highway Patrolman demonstrated by issuing a speeding ticket), and a seal in the new transmission was messed up during the installation.

With all this frustration in the move, I was repeatedly asking myself, “What on Earth have I gotten myself into?” I had never been to Mount Angel Seminary. I had never been to Oregon. In fact, the only reason I chose Mount Angel over the Josephinum in Columbus, OH, was my desire to head the West Coast instead of staying in the Midwest.

Somehow, I was able to arrive at Mount Angel with little further difficulty, and got settled into my room. It was a major adjustment to go from a two-bedroom apartment to a dorm room smaller than my old bedroom. On top of that, the bathroom and shower were down the hall. Resigned to my fate, I set up the room so I could be comfortable and got down to business.

The first year at college seminary I spent doing the school work, going to the meetings I needed to attend, and checking the job search websites to see what kind of jobs were available in the “real world.” I wasn’t going to give up on that back door way out of the seminary. I wasn’t sure I needed to be there, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be there, and definitely wasn’t going to waste my time or the diocese’s money.

By the end of the first year, however, I started to warm to the idea of a vocation to the priesthood. I still wasn’t sure, so I figured I’d give it another year at least. Besides, this was an easy way to take care of a lot of college credits that I needed to fill anyways. I still couldn’t quite see myself as a priest, but I was willing to continue the discernment process.

There were a couple of times during the second year that I thought about saying “forget it!” to the seminary, but I found that those were becoming more and more infrequent. I started developing a stronger prayer life. I was taking the formation process much more seriously. I even thought about discerning for the religious life with the Benedictine monks who lived in Mount Angel Abbey and ran the seminary, but that didn’t last too long.

One change that occurred during the second year is that I stopped being so secretive about my vocation. When I would meet people while riding the train to and from Montana, they would invariably ask what I did for a living. I would answer, “I’m a college student.” Next question: “Where at?” I’d say, “At a small college in Oregon.” Them: “Oh, really? Where?” My response: “Near Salem.” Them: “What town?” Me: “Mount Angel” Them: “I didn’t know there was a college there.” Me: “Yeah, it’s a Catholic seminary. I’m kinda thinking about being a priest.” By the end of the second year, I became far more confident in my vocation, and readily admitted that yes, I was discerning a call to the priesthood.

By the time I reached the end of my four years of college seminary, I was pretty much convinced that I was called to be a priest, and that I needed to complete the process. Graduating from Mount Angel, I was asked by my diocese to attend Mundelein Seminary in the Archdiocese of Chicago. Admittedly, I wasn’t looking forward to spending four years in the middle of Chicago suburbs, but I figured this was as good an opportunity to practice obedience as ever.

While I didn’t really enjoy living in the suburbs as I expected, I did get a lot of great opportunities for discernment at Mundelein. Throughout my theology studies, I felt not only a willingness to accept the call to the priesthood, but a desire and appreciation for the vocation. Instead of being something I did because God willed it, it became something that I wanted as well.

Finally, after many years of discernment, I could finally say that I was sure of my vocation. I knew where God was calling my, and I knew that I wanted to answer that call. In 2008, after 10 years of discernment and 8 years of seminary study, I graduated from Mundelein Seminary, and on June 26, 2008, I was ordained a priest of the Diocese of Great Falls-Billings, MT.

Did my vocational discernment end on June 26th? So far as I felt called to be a priest it did, but now the discernment is how I live my vocation to the priesthood. That’s another story yet to be written, and may not be written this side of Heaven.

Same Name, New Location, New Look

After much wailing and gnashing of teeth (OK, maybe not “much”, but there was some), I have decided to say “So Long!” to Blogger and move out on my own. I did this for three reasons: 1) While I haven’t had any problems with either Blogger or Google, I am becoming increasingly uncertain that Google will be able to continue to restrain itself from censoring opinions that it finds to be politically incorrect or troublesome. 2) Having my own domain allows me to more easily explore other media formats, such as podcasts, if I feel drawn to do so. 3) My web development skills are very rusty, and this gives me the space to do some development on my own in preparation for developing new parish websites.

What this means is that eventually the old Blogger-based blog will eventually be deleted. Never fear, however, that old posts will be erased with it. The new blogging software (WordPress) has helpfully imported all the old posts and most of the comments (I think older comments were lost, sorry!) into the new blog, so I can continue where I left off.

With the new blog comes a new look, but I hope that this will be only temporary. I’m in the process of learning how to develop a WordPress theme that will change automatically based on the liturgical season and possibly even for major feasts. I don’t know when (or if) this will happen, but it should be interesting.

With any change comes a period of growth and uncertainty. Please feel free to leave suggestions and comments in the comment box. Welcome!

Homily for the Second Sunday of Lent

Today we are presented with the Transfiguration of the Lord, in which Jesus appears to His disciples in a foreshadowing of His glorified body, speaking to two of the greatest figures in the Old Covenant: Moses and Elijah. In this event, we see the divine nature of Our Lord, which is reinforced by the voice of God our Heavenly Father speaking from the cloud, but it also gives us a foreshadowing of what our glorified bodies will be like at our resurrection at the end of time.

Apart from the descriptions in Scripture of the Transfiguration and images of Heaven, we don’t have an understanding of what a glorified body looks like. A glorified body is one that has been freed from sin, and is filled with the grace of God. God’s glory and majesty is so powerful that it becomes visible as a bright light. The light is so bright that the Sun pales in comparison.

One day, when we have been freed from the shackles of death and our bodies have been raised up following the final judgment, those who died in the state of grace will have their bodies glorified as Our Lord’s was after His resurrection. We know this from St. Paul, who tells us that Our Lord “will change our lowly body to conform with his glorified body by the power that enables Him also to bring all things into subjection to Himself.” We will share in the glory of God, and our bodies will be purified and raised up.

Sadly, however, that day is yet to come. We on Earth are still affected by sin, and our vision has been darkened by sin. We do not see the radiant glory of God, and would be stunned if we did experience that glory, as Peter, James and John were in the Gospel today. It’s been said that if an angel appeared before us in all it’s glory, we would not be able to tell that it was merely an angel and not God Himself. In fact, St. John in the Book of Revelation had to be told several times by the angel that appeared to him not to worship the angel, as St. John was awed by the glory of God shining through it.

As we look at the account of the Transfiguration given to us today, it’s interesting that St. Luke chose to describe Our Lord’s Passion, Death, and Resurrection in Jerusalem as his “exodus”, while Our Lord was speaking to the one figure in the Old Testament who is most well known for Israel’s Exodus from Egypt. It’s striking that the Exodus that freed the Israelites from the slavery of Egypt parallels the suffering, death and resurrection of Our Lord that frees us from the slavery to sin.

In both cases, a difficult journey with great suffering had to be made in order to gain this freedom from slavery and enter into the Promised Land. Moses had to lead Israel out of Egypt and suffer through the desert for 40 years so that the people of Israel could enter into the Promised Land, which Abram (later known as Abraham) was given by God. Our Lord had to undergo the suffering of the Roman and Jewish authorities, be crucified, die, and rise again so that we might enter into our Promised Land of Heaven.

It’s important to point out that “our citizenship is in Heaven,” as St. Paul tells us. Just as the people of Israel were estranged from their homeland when living in Egypt, we are estranged from our Heavenly homeland during our lives on Earth. When you read the account of the Exodus, many in Israel were attached to the things of Egypt, making the Exodus difficult for the Israelites. Sadly, we too are attached to our land of exile, often caring more for the things of Earth over the things of Heaven. As St. Paul once again says, “Their minds are occupied with earthly things.”

To overcome this desire for earthly goods, we need to place our faith in God, as Abram did in the first reading, and as the people of Israel who entered the Promised Land did during the Exodus. When we put our faith in God instead of in the constant concern for earthly things, life won’t be without challenge, as the Exodus was not without difficulty, but it will be “credited” to us “as an act of righteousness,” just as it was for Abram. When we are “righteous”, which means that we are in the friendship and grace of God, we too will one day enter into our Promised Land: the eternal joys of God’s presence in Heaven.

As we go through our lives here on Earth, we join our exodus through the pain and sorrow that accompany this life to the pain and anguish that Our Lord suffered during his Passion and Death. May our exodus end at the Promised Land of Heaven, just as the Israelites’ Exodus ended in their Promised Land.

Do you really need to work on Sundays?

From St. John Vianney’s Little Catechism, Part I, Chapter 7:

You labor, you labor, my children; but what you earn ruins your body and your soul. If one ask those who work on Sunday, “What have you been doing?” they might answer, “I have been selling my soul to the devil, crucifying Our Lord, and renouncing my Baptism. I am going to Hell; I shall have to weep for all eternity in vain.” When I see people driving carts on Sunday, I think I see them carrying their souls to Hell.

Oh, how mistaken in his calculations is he who labors hard on Sunday, thinking that he will earn more money or do more work! Can two or three shillings ever make up for the harm he does himself by violating the law of the good God? You imagine that everything depends on your working; but there comes an illness, an accident…. so little is required! a tempest, a hailstorm, a frost. The good God holds everything in His hand; He can avenge Himself when He will, and as He will; the means are not wanting to Him. Is He not always the strongest? Must not He be the master in the end?

There was once a woman who came to her priest to ask leave to get in her hay on Sunday. “But,” said the priest, “it is not necessary; your hay will run no risk.” The woman insisted, saying, “Then you want me to let my crop be lost?” She herself died that very evening; she was more in danger than her crop of hay. “Labor not for the meat which perisheth, but for that which endureth unto life everlasting.” [Jn. 6: 27].

What will remain to you of your Sunday work? You leave the earth just as it is; when you go away, you carry nothing with you. Ah! when we are attached to the earth, we are not willing to go! Our first end is to go to God; we are on the earth for no other purpose. My brethren, we should die on Sunday, and rise again on Monday.

Sunday is the property of our good God; it is His own day, the Lord’s day. He made all the days of the week: He might have kept them all; He has given you six, and has reserved only the seventh for Himself. What right have you to meddle with what does not belong to you? You know very well that stolen goods never bring any profit. Nor will the day that you steal from Our Lord profit you either. I know two very certain ways of becoming poor: they are working on Sunday and taking other people’s property.

I would add to the great St. John Vianney that we should not be encouraging Sunday work by doing our shopping or other errands on Sundays. We have 6 days in the week to buy groceries, fuel up the car, and the like. There should be only one focus on Sunday: God.