You are the Chosen People and a chosen witness (Sunday homily)

Several years ago, while making a trip to the Holy Land, 

 I changed planes in France, and while waiting for my flight, 

a group of Orthodox Jewish men arrive at the gate. 

As they, too, waited, they gathered in a corner to pray together. 

Like you would be, I was curious, but I did not want to stare. 

Above all, I respected and admired their zeal. 

In the second reading, Saint Paul tells us that to be a Christian 

means being grafted into the “vine” of Israel. 

The Jewish People are God’s Chosen People, 

and one of the things Jesus came to do was to extend that chosenness to all humanity. 

That’s what the first reading foresees. 

Keep this in mind as we look at this strange episode in the Gospel. 

Lots of people think Jesus is denigrating this woman, 

and that he is not interested in welcoming her. 

But that misreads what’s going on. So why does he speak this way? 

One of the main things the Gospels show us is how the Apostles grow in faith – 

and how Jesus repeatedly challenges their narrowness. 

That’s what’s happening here. 

Notice, the Lord lets the Apostles speak first. What do they say? “Send her away”; 

That’s what they said last week about the hungry crowds: “Send them away.” 

What you hear Jesus say, out loud, is what’s in the Apostle’s hearts. 

He says it out loud, precisely to draw out this woman’s greater faith. 

Jesus knew all along what he was going to do for her; 

but he also wants to get the Apostles past their narrow vision. 

And, if you read ahead to the Book of Acts, they get there; 

but here, they are still stumbling. 

All these readings in different ways give us a vision: 

one day, all that divides us, all the issues of race and history, 

language, and past hurts and hates, will no longer matter. 

In Bible times, the idea that Jews and Gentiles could be one was CRAZY! 

Two thousand years later, we’re not there yet. 

Meanwhile, of course, we’ve discovered other ways to be prejudiced. 

One of the easiest things we humans do – and love to do – 

is to divide up against each other. 

Look at the yelling people do over this virus. 

It’s not real, it’s overblown, some say. 

Others are shocked by a lack of vigilance and get into fights at stores. 

Meanwhile there are forces in our country 

who want to turn black against white, rural against urban. 

Lots of us don’t even want to admit who we’ll vote for. 

I am not trivializing these issues. 

But see how much you and I are like those people back then? 

Overcoming these things will be impossible without God’s help. 

Meanwhile, back to those men I saw in the airport. 

In a real way, you and I have the exact same vocation: 

Keep praying. Keep faithful. Keep bearing witness. 

Don’t be afraid to stand out.

Mary's victory and ours (Assumption homily)

The first reading from Revelation presents vivid images— 

it helps if we try to see what it’s describing: 

A sign in heaven: the ark of the covenant—a woman, with child! 

But the scene does not stay peaceful: a huge, red dragon. 

The dragon with seven crowns stands for all that tries to rule us, 

to displace Christ as the true king. 

And this fake king still sweeps away a third of the stars of heaven,

and seems poised to devour the Child. 

Does it not often seem that evil is winning? 

Do we not often fear that our hope will be devoured?

We wonder why God doesn’t win the way we think he should. 

But God acts, and saves the Child, and the Woman flees to the desert. 

This of course is Jesus, and his mother Mary.

She is also an image of the Church, because she is Jesus’ first and best disciple. 

She is a symbol of us, challenged by evil, yet faithfully waiting. 

So what does all this have to do with the Feast of the Assumption?

Today, you and I celebrate Mary’s complete victory – she is home! 

At the same time, we are reassured the same victory lies ahead for us.

When I was a seminarian, I spent a year in Piqua as an intern – 

 just as Isaiah Callan will be doing here, starting in a week or so. 

Often I would give lessons to the school children – 

again, as Isaiah will also be doing. 

One day my task was to explain what we believe about Mary to first graders. 

Not an easy task! 

So I arranged a skit. One child would be the Angel Gabriel; 

one child would be Mary; and to one child, I said, 

“you’re Jesus in heaven; watch as Gabriel asks Mary to have you as a baby. 

Listen for Mary’s answer—and without words, show your reaction. 

So: Gabriel asked, then Mary said, “yes,” 

And then the child who was “Jesus” started jumping up for joy! 

There it is, even a child gets it: we Christians ache with love for Mary. 

And Jesus gets it too; how can a grateful Son not lavish gifts on his mother? 

We believe, as St. John Damascene said, 

It was necessary that she who had preserved her virginity inviolate in childbirth 

should also have her body kept free from all corruption after death; 

It was necessary that she who had carried the Creator as a child on her breast 

should dwell in the tabernacles of God. 

It was necessary that she who had gazed on her crucified Son 

and been pierced in the heart by the sword of sorrow… 

should contemplate him seated with the Father. 

It was necessary that the Mother of God should share the possessions of her Son, 

and be venerated by every creature as the Mother and handmaid of God. 

 As Mary herself said: “All generations will call me blessed.” 

Today you and I happily fulfill that prophecy.

'Emergency' and schism: Father Leatherby of Sacramento

One of the ideas making the rounds these days -- although it isn't a new idea -- is that when things get bad enough, you are justified in doing things that otherwise would be wrong. I'll skip over the granular examination of this idea, other than to quote Pope St. John Paul II Paul VI: "it is never lawful, even for the gravest reasons, to do evil that good may come of it (cf.Rom.3:8)."* What gets us in trouble is when we feel a kind of panic over things seemingly being out of control, so that we're tempted to take extreme action. 

Many Catholics feel this temptation as well, including priests. So consider the case of Father Jerry Leatherby, who has been declared excommunicate by his bishop, Jaime Soto of Sacramento. What did Father Leatherby do? According to the bishop's letter:

Fr. Leatherby has violated my instructions by offering Mass and teaching publicly to a number of the faithful. He has instructed them against the legitimacy of His Holiness, Pope Francis. He has substituted the Holy Father’s name with the name of his predecessor, and omitted my name during the recitation of the Eucharistic Prayer while offering Mass. After obstinately not responding to a number of my inquiries by telephone and correspondence, he has now confirmed his schismatic stance. Because of the grave scandal of these actions I have no recourse but to announce publicly the consequence of his decisions: He has brought upon himself an automatic latae sententiae excommunication.

What does Father Leatherby say of his actions? Here's a letter purporting to be in his own hand, in which he relates the following:

- Several years ago he was accused of unspecified misconduct with an adult female, and was suspended from active ministry.

- He violated "boundaries" with that woman and sincerely regrets those wrongs.

- Father Leatherby waited and continues to wait for the opportunity to defend himself; in the meantime, he felt terribly isolated, and has been unfairly and falsely accused of various things.

- He was "on the way out of the priesthood."

- When the covid virus struck, Father Leatherby judged the situation to be dire enough -- with the faithful unable to attend Mass and not partake of the sacraments -- that he should bring the Eucharist to people in individual cases.

- When this proved impractical, he began inviting people to join him at Mass, even as (a) public Masses in general were suspended, and (2) he himself was suspended from celebrating Mass publicly.

- He consciously omitted reference to Pope Francis in the Eucharistic prayer, choosing to offer Mass instead "in union with Pope Benedict" -- because he does not recognize Francis as the successor of Saint Peter.

I wouldn't blog about this sad case, except that this process of reasoning is not unusual: i.e., things are so bad that I'm not only permitted to do what otherwise I ought not to, but indeed, I am compelled. This is a very seductive temptation, and many of the faithful can be sucked in by it. But it is a temptation, and it is wrong. Let me illustrate why. 

(And, by the way, I know there is more to Father Leatherby's story; there's always more to every story. Was this connected to his father blowing the whistle on misconduct by others? Was the bishop unfair to Father Leatherby? Is Father's account of his situation accurate? I don't have access to enough information to answer those questions, so I'm not addressing them. Moreover, to the point I am making, they are finally irrelevant.)

Let us (for sake of argument) take at face value Father Leatherby's complaint that he has been treated unfairly; and respond that this is wrong, and those who have been unjust to him, if deliberate, have their own sins to repent of. I do not have a heart of stone, and I can only imagine this priest's suffering, and that makes me feel great sympathy. Nevertheless, those injustices cannot justify any injustice of his own, namely, disobedience and schism.

But it was an emergency! People weren't able to receive the sacraments! Indeed, and church law addresses this: a suspended, or even "laicized" priest can provide sacraments in danger of death; not in a case of generalized emergency. That's not what this priest did.

Look: I know a lot of the faithful think the bishops erred terribly in suspending the public celebration of the Mass, and other sacraments, in the context of the spread of Covid-19. Let me just point out that such actions are not unprecedented; St. Charles Borromeo did similar things in his time. And let's acknowledge that there's a big difference between saying no public Masses, versus no sacraments at all. I simply don't know what the Bishop of Sacramento decreed in this regard; I know what I and other priests in Ohio were told: no public Masses and other liturgies; but other sacraments could go on, with great care. So, for example, the sacraments of baptism, anointing and confession went on. Funerals happened, but with great restrictions; and I testify here and now that nothing in the directives I received said I could not give Holy Communion in individual cases. And Mass itself was not suspended, only being present at it by the faithful was suspended. These restrictions caused suffering, yes! But this is not a complete suspension of the sacraments. 

And in any case, none this has any bearing on Father Leatherby, because he, himself, was suspended. He may believe this suspension was unjust; nevertheless, he was bound to obey it.

And let me say out loud what I suspect, but cannot prove, because it's a counterfactual: had Father Leatherby merely brought Holy Communion to people in individual cases, and along the way heard confessions or given anointing, this would not have come to a head. What surely forced the bishop's hand was celebrating Masses with up to 350 people present -- during a pandemic when all other public Masses were suspended! -- and omitting Pope Francis's name from the canon. Father Leatherby may think he had no other choice, but he is simply wrong in that belief.

What about the pope? Is Francis really so terrible that Father Leatherby (and others) are justified in refusing to recognize him?

In a word: NO. This is exact same temptation and same error.

Let us consider several scenarios, which which I stress are hypothetical. In no way am I accusing Pope Francis of anything. But let's spin out the scenarios based on what others find troubling, and therefore, lead them to entertain Father Leatherby's line of thinking.

What if Pope Francis believes and allows terrible things, or does them himself?

Tell me: when were we promised that no pope would ever sin, even gravely? When were promised no pope would publicly engage in scandalous behavior, or encourage others to do so? This largely recapitulates Protestant attacks on the papacy: they point to examples (real or exaggerated or false) of bad popes and say the papacy must be false. And what has always been our response? That when the Lord Jesus entrusted Peter (and his successors) with special authority, it was to govern, and teach, and that when the pope would teach publicly, in a formal way, he would be preserved from error (i.e., infallibility). You can look all this up in the Catechism; we don't believe that popes can't be terrible people who sin gravely, or even -- shocking to consider -- they, themselves, might voice erroneous ideas, or tolerate those who do.

When Peter denied Jesus, were the Apostles justified in rejecting Peter as the head of the college? How about when Paul confronted Peter about his cowardly behavior regarding Gentile believers and those who demanded those believers be circumcised (see Paul's letter to the Galatians)? No: despite his failures, Peter was still pope.

And in any case -- and I do mean, any case -- what necessity compels you, or me, or any priest, or any Catholic, to render a judgment on whether Francis is pope? The college of cardinals met and elected him, after Benedict, before the world, resigned. Please do not waste everyone's time with conspiracy theories and obscure claims of knowledge! Even if you are right, how can you be sure? And how can I be sure? Do you actually think God operates this way? That he expects you to search the cobwebby crevices of the Internet and patch together a Rube Goldbergian theory to explain why Benedict is still pope? Or maybe the last pope was John Paul II? Or Paul VI? Or Pius XII? See where this goes? What sort of God do you think we serve, that he faults us for not putting faith in such tales?

Remember: most Christians, up to the present moment, have never had access to such abundance of information as many of us engorge ourselves with. So even those who think they are well informed, can only say they are well informed about the present times; they do not have comparable information about the past, and therefore, they are wrong when they breathlessly say, "this is the worst EVER!" How can they know? And how can they really know they have even the full story about present things? Ah, see the problem with giving credence to "hidden hands" and unseen explanations? 

The college of cardinals elected a pope, who calls himself Francis. As far as I can see, and as far as my bishop -- who I am convinced is a bishop (or maybe not! See where this leads us?) -- can see, Francis is pope, and so I recognize him. If these fantastical claims of widespread conspiracy are true, then the sin lies with the conspiracists, not with the faithful who manifest humble obedience.

If Pope Francis or my bishop -- or yours -- says or does something you or I cannot stomach, then do not stomach them. That is, weigh them, applying the most charitable reading, make sure you have all the facts, and if you don't agree, then...don't agree. I don't have to publicize all these things -- nor do you -- but if asked, I try my best to be charitable, truthful, prudent and humble. That means say no more than necessary, give the benefit of the doubt, allow that you may be mistaken, and be respectful. 

If the pope, or the bishop, or president or governor or mayor tells you to do something you must not do, or forbids you to do something truly necessary, then we must disobey. But these circumstances are actually extremely rare. 

For example, the Archbishop wants me to wear a mask at various times, including when celebrating the sacraments. You or I may think this misguided or silly, but it does not violate any moral law, and therefore, I have no just basis to object: so I wear the mask out of obedience. When I get out of breath, I take it off. 

The Archbishop, after all, is doing this out of obedience to civil authority. The bishops are accused of being cowardly toward government, but this is more than I know, as I cannot read their souls. If they are, then they will answer for that before God. But what is plain enough -- and it really is enough -- is that they are practicing the exact same virtue of obedience. Public authorities have the responsibility of safeguarding public health, and so they issue orders to do this or that in response to a pandemic. Maybe their advisors are misguided; perhaps their motives are tainted, or they are overreacting. Is it possible their policies are uneven and unjust? Certainly. And thus there is recourse: we can speak out, we can seek legal redress, and we can seek to minimize, in legal and moral ways, the negative consequences.

Let me close by pointing out two things that get overlooked with this sort of thinking. First, we miss that that all this is a temptation; the enemy always wants to sow discord and use these circumstances to lead us into vice. How often we use "stress" and "this is an exceptional situation" as an excuse for any number of sins! Don't play the devil's game.

Second, when we are casting about for rationales for doing things we otherwise must not do, we treat with contempt those avenues that are always open to us, and which no one can shut: the power of prayer and personal holiness. I don't mean to pick on Father Leatherby, who I think has suffered greatly and I suspect is in agony over his choices; I pray for him to find the right path. But it is not true that he had no choice, no other recourse, and it is simply never true for us. Nothing keeps us from growing in our own holiness, and nothing keeps us from fervent prayer, but we ourselves. What does it say that we think these options aren't sufficient?

*I always thought it was JPII, in Veritatis Splendor, but it turns out he simply quoted Paul VI. Maybe you thought the same.

What if there had been no storm? (Sunday homily)

There’s a word for what is happening in all the readings; 

for Elijah, for Saint Paul, and for Saint Peter: that word is discouragement. 

So: if you feel discouraged or disheartened, you are in good company. 

In the first reading, Elijah has fled to the mountain because he is discouraged. 

He tried to spark revival of faith, and the queen seeks to kill him. 

He feels very alone and overwhelmed. 

Paul is “in anguish” for his fellow Jews who have resisted the message of Jesus Christ. 

Peter is disheartened by the storm raging around him, and he begins to sink. 

There is a cure for discouragement, and the readings also tell us what that is as well: 

Staying close to Jesus. 

Notice what happened in the Gospel: 

When Peter kept his thoughts and focus on Jesus, 

He had courage and boldness, and no fear. What went wrong? 

When he looked away – at the storm. Then he sank. 

I think a lot of us have made that mistake too. 

A lot of us keep up with the news, and that’s important; 

You and I need to be well informed. 

But I will confess, here and now, that I overdo it, 

And I know I’m not the only one. 

My strategy is I almost never watch TV news, and only listen to a little radio. 

God bless them, but what do they do? 

They tell us that you and I need to be all worked up! 

You had better be mad! And you’d better be scared! 

Even when the news is good, they make it sound bad. 

So while some of us do need to get better informed,

others of us could do with a fast from Fox News or MSNBC.

And, I might add, this applies to other people’s outrage.

Some people aren’t happy unless they are mad about something;

And they want to make you mad about it, too.

Don’t let their storms draw your attention from Jesus. 

These strange and frustrating times are getting in the way 

of a lot of things we want to do. 

Worse is how many people have lost work, 

And there is too much uncertainty and disruption. 

Still, try to keep an even keel. 

In 1940, things were terrible. 

The world was at war and evil was on the march. 

The Great Depression had been going on for a decade. 

And if you lived then, and anyone had told you 

what the next five years of war would bring, you would have been terrified! 

And then, if they’d told you what the five years after that would bring: 

victory, peace, prosperity and amazing accomplishments; 

you would have thought it was nonsense. 

We can’t see through the storm, why try? 

Jesus is right here with us, walking straight through it. 

The storms and trouble can do a lot of damage, 

But there’s one thing they can never do: 

Keep Jesus from coming to us in our struggle. 

The disciples wanted Jesus to get in the boat with them. 

That was what they knew; it was as much security as they could have. 

But notice: Jesus didn’t really want that; 

He wanted them to get out of the boat! Peter did it! 

And, although he walked on water only briefly before failing, 

I have no doubt he remembered that experience, 

That exhilaration, that victory! 

And even his failure didn’t erase it; 

And his later victories of faith built on this. 

But what if there had been a storm? 

 Then Peter would never have stepped out.

'Accept no substitutes' (Sunday homily)

Notice the question 

Saint Paul asked you in the second reading:

“What will separate us from the love of Christ?”

First he reminds us what will NOT separate us: 

“anguish, or distress, or persecution, or famine, 

or nakedness, or peril, or the sword?” He could have said, 

war or election results or economic downturn or Covid-19.

Therefore, what he left out is the answer, i.e., what CAN separate: 

And that is us, you and me.

Our choices can, indeed, separate us from the love of Christ.

How often we focus our energy on things we cannot change, 

rather than on what actually is in our own power, namely:

my heart; my thoughts, my reactions, my choices.

This calls to mind a prayer I often pray, and recommend to others:

“Lord, give me the ‘want-to’”; Give me the desire.

Of course, what I’m really referring to is the Holy Spirit:

He is the “want-to,” the desire, that we receive in baptism;

He draws us always to Jesus, always to be close to him.

Day by day you and I get distracted by other things, 

and it is the Holy Spirit who calls us back, every time, 

to the love of Christ.

Of course, you’re here – that “want-to” has brought you here. 

I’m not just patting you on the back. I’m calling attention 

to the work of God and the action of grace in your life. Notice this!

It is the Holy Spirit, within your heart, that thirsts for God;

And as needed, He will prompt you to realize distance has crept in,

and prod you to draw close again.

This will sound paradoxical, but:

Where our usual goal is to make hunger go away,

Here, it is exactly the opposite.

You and I must stay hungry; indeed, grow hungrier still.

Ravenous; panting and desperate for God!

Isaiah warns us, how easy to feed our God-hunger 

with the wrong stuff. 

How dangerous that is! 

Right now, many aren’t coming to Mass for very good reasons – 

because of health concerns or lack of seating.

Totally understandable.

But let me say out loud what many of us wonder about:

That when the Covid crisis passes, some people won’t be back.

All I can say to you, and encourage you to repeat to others, is:

Only Jesus truly feeds us. Only Jesus makes sense of life.

Only He is solid; everything else can fail.

One day, soon or late, all that I love in this world will fade away.

Same for you: and each of us will be alone. 

You and God, you and Jesus Christ.

Either we will be able to say, “I sought you, you fed me”;

Or he will say, “I never knew you.” 

How good and generous Jesus is to you and me!

Those little nudges from the Holy Spirit,  

that keep on track, or get back where we need to be.

“Pick up the Rosary!” he murmurs, or “turn off the computer!”

Or, “get to confession” or, “Come spend time with Me!”

How good Jesus is to us!

Jesus gives us his own words in the Scriptures.

Once Bibles were rare and few could read them. 

Now everyone can breathe the pure oxygen of God’s Word 

as often and as much as we want. 

How good the Lord Jesus is to you and me!

He also gives us the saints. 

We don’t always know how to live the right way, so we learn from them.

They accompany us, they pray for us, they encourage us.

No matter how alone you may feel, you are never alone.

There is a great crowd of witnesses with you every day!

How good Jesus is to us!

He gives us the sacraments, above all, the Eucharist.

The Mass brings us to Calvary, with Mary and John.

Notice in the Gospel, Jesus said, gather every bit of bread,

And each Apostle had a full basket. What did they do with it?

Maybe they gave it away in the next town,

Or maybe that was their own food for the next couple of days?

See how they treasured what was mere, ordinary bread, 

and why not? It came [miraculously]* from the hand of Jesus himself!

Now see what Jesus gives us: not bread at all – but His Body, his Blood, 

taken from his side, pierced on the Cross, so we can live forever! 

How good Jesus is to us!

There's an old TV slogan, from advertising, and it went like this:

“Accept no substitutes!” 

* Added at several Masses.

Jesus wants no weeds, only the best of wheat (Sunday homily)

Our daily choices are how we sow either good or bad seed,
so that either the field of our soul is full of virtue, 
or it is crowded with the weeds of vice and sin.

I was reading a book by Father Basil Maturin, 
an Irish priest from a century ago, who talks about this parable. 
It was he who saw the field as our own lives. 

Father Maturin asked, “How often, as we look into our souls, 
and wonder at the evil we find there, do we not ask ourselves” 
where do these weeds come from? 
Where do laziness, wrath, lust and greed, 
and the trials that go with them, come from? 

And the answer is, “An enemy has done this.”

Now, to be clear: the devil certainly does not “make me” do it.
The enemy makes suggestions, often very seductive and appealing ones, 
but the choice is mine. 

So the point is, you and I cannot be too careful about what evil 
we allow the enemy to sow in our lives. 

There’s a famous saying, attributed to many people:
“Sow a thought, reap an action; sow an action, reap a habit; 
Sow a habit, reap a character; sow a character, reap a destiny.”

It doesn’t take much time given to the Internet, 
going to dark places, to allow a foul habit to take deep root. 

There are folks who think this isn’t any big deal. 
Let me tell you: there is a growing number of people 
who are finding it difficult to have a healthy relationship 
with the opposite sex because of pornography. 
It is poisoning marriages, even before they begin,
And it is contributing to marital breakups. 

So it’s vital to guard our eyes from what is degrading; 
our ears from gossip and toxic words of anger and hate;
our heart from envy; our stomach from gluttony.

Of course, a lot of us can say, too late! 
These weeds are already in my life! 
We are frustrated to face these same weeds, 
week after week throughout our lives. 
Why doesn’t the Lord simply tear them out, when we beg him to do so?

Sometimes it happens: we have a moment of conversion 
and we receive the grace to completely overcome that bad habit; 
the weeds are, indeed, ripped out. 
But do you know what often happens next?
Someone who received a great gift of deliverance slowly slides back.

As much as we hate it, for virtue to grow in our lives, 
we’re better off if it comes hard rather than easy;
just as it takes hard, physical labor to build our lungs and muscles.

At the conference I attended last week, 
in one of the talks the priest said, 
it is in our darkest and lowest places where we so quickly meet Jesus.
That is where we experience him most powerfully.
There’s no place for pride when we’re flat on our face.

So, when you find it discouraging to go to confession, again, and again,
with the same sin – realize, that is exactly the medicine you need. 
It is the enemy who says, you can’t fight the weeds, 
just let them grow. 

There’s something the Gospel doesn’t say, yet we know it’s true:
Jesus has the power to turn weeds into wheat.
I know this is true because I’ve seen it in my own life,
And there are people in this parish who will say the same.

At this and every Mass, Jesus takes wheat – that is, bread – 
and turns it into himself.
What happened once on the Cross, for us, 
Jesus extends through time, through the Mass.
Every day, we bring new bread and wine, and through the priest,
Jesus himself says, “This is my Body.”

Yet there’s another wheat, another bread, 
Jesus wants above all to take in hand and say, “This is my Body.”
Do you know what that wheat is?

You and me! All of us are called to belong to his Mystical Body.
But no weeds – only the best of wheat, 
which he himself purifies and gathers and prepares. 
That’s what it means to be a Catholic;
Daily we turn our lives over to him. Patiently we return to confession. 
Jesus makes of us the best of wheat, to become part of Him.

How you can frustrate God, and how you can help (Sunday homily)

One of the things every farmer here certainly knows 
is that this land can be tremendously fruitful. 
Of course that assumes good preparation, good seed, and –
this is on all our minds right now – enough rain. 
Please God, give us the rain we need (and no more!)

In a word, these readings are about fruitfulness. 

God himself is always fruitful. His word, his will, cannot fail.
God creates because he loves; God loves all that he creates.
When a child delights in building sand castles, 
this is a shadow of how much God revels in his Creation.

The Divine Farmer who strews galaxies across space with abandon [is]
the Heavenly Artist [who] makes a Mona Lisa in the tiniest creature;
No detail of your existence escapes the care of God;
No matter how many he may create, only you are uniquely you.

But here is a great mystery: If God’s will always bears fruit,
Then what goes wrong? 
If God himself farmed these fields, 
why wouldn’t he always have a bumper crop?

The answer is that God chooses to involve us, 
and we are the wild-card.
You and I can frustrate his creative work;
Or we can make his work more fruitful.

How do we do these things?

You’ve already figured out the next part:
Our sins and neglect obviously get in God’s way.

Throughout the Bible and on the lips of so many saints, 
God begs us to pray.
So many times heaven has sent the Mother of God to us –
Guadalupe, Lourdes, Knock, Akita, Fatima and more –
And more than anything else, Mary begs us to pray.

The most astounding detail of the Fatima visions in 1917, 
was not forecasting the coming of more wars throughout the century.
No, it was that Mary said those wars could be prevented,
if only people high and low would respond to her message.

And her message was both to popes and bishops, but equally to ordinary Catholics, 
everyone who could pray the Rosary 
and make other acts of repentance and reparation. 
That’s everyone, including you and me.

It’s funny how much we focus on the curious or obscure aspects 
of Mary’s message at Fatima, but ignore the clearest message: PRAY!

You might wonder, why should my sins have any effect on God’s plan?

Each of us makes up a part of the whole Body of Christ.
The Body works better when every part is letting life flow,
And following the signals coming from the head – that is, Christ.
When you and I commit mortal sin, we block the flow of grace.
You may think a finger or toe or patch of skin isn’t important:
Until it decides not to work. Then you’re knocked off your game.

The good news is, we can also help God’s plan; 
and the power of grace far exceeds the power of sin; 
the strength of God is far greater than the weakness of men.

For one, you and I can heal the deadness 
we bring to the Body of Christ by a good confession.
God is always ready to revive us and make us powerful with his grace.
We may think our little part doesn’t matter, but God says otherwise.

And to go back to the farm imagery of the Gospel, consider this:
What is it the farmer spreads over the fields, to make them fruitful?
“Fertilizer” – but mostly, that’s manure!
Stuff we don’t want, we don’t like, that is offensive:
Look how God puts it to use to make a difference!

So for anyone who says, “I’m worthless as…” fill in the blank,
God says, “Fine! Have I got a job for you!”

As Americans and Catholics, 'We hold these truths' (Sunday homily)

This weekend, we celebrate our nation’s independence. 
When we have large numbers of our fellow citizens 
who are ignorant of our nation’s history and what we stand for, 
or worse, actually despise our nation – their own nation! –
then it seems like a good time to make some points about our nation
and the virtue of patriotism. 
But after that, I will circle back to the Scriptures in a moment.

Everyone knows what happened on July 4th:  
the Continental Congress adopted the Declaration of Independence. 
The actual vote to be “free and independent” took place on July 2.

Do you know that until that moment, no one had ever done such a thing?
I don’t mean the part about forming a new nation; 
that has happened lots of times. I mean the Declaration. 
No one had ever written anything like it before. 
No nation had ever been conceived with such audacious claims as these:

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, 
that all men are created equal, 
that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, 
that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.
That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, 
deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed.”

Every word and idea I just quoted finds precedent in prior writings, 
including those of saints, such as Thomas Aquinas, 
and ultimately the Word of God; and yet, until that day, 
no one in history had ever distilled these ideas with such soaring prose.
There are a lot more reasons to be proud as an American, 
but those ideas, let loose into the world 244 years ago today, 
are more than sufficient reason to be patriotic. 
And that Thomas Jefferson helped make this happen, 
despite his sins, is more than enough reason to honor him.

I bring this up to make another point: 
Too many people know too little about our nation’s history.
Many here remember these things being taught to us,
And we assume this continues for younger generations.
But outside Russia School district, this is just not so.

With so many filled with rage as they smash history,
Someone – that is, you and I! – must help our fellow citizens remember.
Our history is not perfect, but those words: “endowed by our Creator” 
and “all men are created equal” have propelled us 
toward ever greater human dignity, not only for us, but all mankind.

America at her best really has been a beacon to the world – 
and that, too, is something to be proud of, and to defend.
Because this isn’t just about the past; 
the past isn’t worth remembering 
if you and I aren’t concerned about the future.

What sort of nation will we be? Will we let others decide for us?
There’s a political process, and each of us has a right – 
and also a duty – to take part.
More than that, we have the power of prayer and witness.

As citizens of this country who are also citizens of heaven, 
It belongs to us to see that “life, liberty and pursuit of happiness” 
happen for all God’s children, of every race and condition, 
including those unborn, and those on the margins of life;
including those who suffer prejudice 
and maybe don’t see themselves sharing in our nation’s promise.

Now let me turn to the Scriptures.
The first reading foresees a king who will resurrect God’s People,  
and he will conquer, not with a sword, but with justice, bringing peace.
Of course this is Jesus Christ!
But the point is, if this is how our Lord and King chooses to come,
then it is the pattern for us to approach our fellow citizens.

How unthinkable to hear the Lord all-powerful, all-knowing,
say of himself, “I am meek and lowly of heart”?

Have you ever heard a politician say that?
Or an actor or athlete – or a parish priest – say that?
“I am meek and lowly of heart.”
And if they did, would anyone believe them?

If you and I say these words, will we be taken seriously?

Fifty years ago, when Dr. Martin Luther King and many others – 
including many Catholics – took brave and necessary steps 
to fulfill the founding promise of liberty for ALL;
in imitation of Jesus, they came “meek and lowly.”
The whole nation watched them be beaten for simply demonstrating, 
or sitting to eat lunch at a segregated restaurant.

Their courageous meekness changed our nation for the better.

Not only should you and I have our say in this moment.
Even more, we must do it in a Christ-like way.
This ugliness is likely, any day, to beget more ugliness.
Who will be led by the Holy Spirit, and do the works of the Savior?
That’s your task and mine:
“We hold these truths.”

Patriotism is a virtue (Independence Day homily)

Immaculate Conception, by Peter Paul Rubens, 1649-50,
Museo del Prado, Madrid, Spain. 

This particular 4th of July seems like a good time 
to talk about the virtue of patriotism.

Our catechism links patriotism to the fourth commandment: 
“Honor your father and mother.” 
It goes on to say that this commandment 
“requires honor, affection, and gratitude toward elders and ancestors” 
and “it extends to the duties of citizens to their country, 
and to those who administer or govern it.”

The great Thomas Aquinas talked about patriotism in a different way – 
in relation to the virtue of piety, or pietas in Latin. 
For the ancient Romans, piety was a debt of honor, 
owed to my parents, my family, and my patria, or country. 
That’s where we get the term “patriot.”  
And so, St. Thomas teaches, “man is debtor 
chiefly to his parents and his country, after God.”

So one of the first aspects of patriotism is to recognize: I owe a debt.
From the first moment of my existence, 
someone else was feeding and protecting me: 
first in my mother’s womb, then in the house of my parents. 
They clothed and educated me, 
turned me from a barbarian into a halfway decent person, 
all at great expense, for the first 20 or so years of my life.

And it was the same for you, too.
 
Our parents taught us something else: they had help.
Whether you grew up in the city like me, or here in farm country,
All of us were sheltered under the protective wings of our country:

Enjoying astonishing prosperity, the most expansive liberty, 
and a blanket of peace and security 
that most people past and present, have never known. 
The peace we enjoyed came at great cost: vigilance, courage and blood.

Every one of us owes a debt, and it is right to pay that debt:
not only gratitude, but love. We owe love to our country.

Now, here is something else that most people have not enjoyed:
Our country gives us the right to criticize and to demand change.
So, if you and I are properly grateful for this right in particular, 
how shall we show that gratitude?

Many of our fellow citizens are responding with violence and hate.
There is no excuse. No, none whatsoever.
You do not remedy injustice by adding injustice.

Do not let others’ ugliness make you respond in kind.

That said, there is such a thing as patriotic protest.
It was bought for us at extravagant cost.
Therefore, it is not only a right, but a duty.
But what makes protest patriotic is that it acts out of love.

Consider the prophet Amos, who gave us the first reading.
Why did go up and down the land, crying out?
He, inspired by God, was acting in love: to save his people.
He could not bear to see his homeland so disfigured by sin and cruelty.

To be a citizen means we have a share in shaping our country.
Again: a privilege won for us by blood, 
And which most people past and present, do not enjoy.
So if you are a patriot – and St. Thomas says, we must be –
Then part of that patriotism is to take part in shaping our nation.

If you do not exercise the vote, if you do not become informed, 
how can you defend that? 
If the people of Israel could have voted for a new king, 
what do you think Amos would have done? Just change the channel?

In the Gospel, Jesus reminds us that there are times 
when his friends – that’s you and me – are called to fast and pray.

When our country is in trouble – and we are in trouble now! – 
Then that is such a time.

So, before this Mass, a group prayed a “patriotic” Rosary.
Remember, the bishops designated our Lady as the patroness – 
the patron saint – of our country.

Look at very old artwork of Mary: red, white and blue 
were her colors, long before our nation ever existed!
So go to Mary: ask her to pray for America, and you pray with her.

It is not unpatriotic to admit that we still need to change.
Those who say we need less racism and more justice: they’re not wrong!
You and I might add: justice means defending human life, 
from its very beginning, to its very end. 

And defending human life from being twisted and corrupted,
Which is why we defend the family as it truly is: man-woman-child, 
and therefore, we refuse to accept counterfeits. 

This is why we cannot be passive about the filth on the Internet, 
Which is every bit as toxic in its own way 
as all those poisons we worked all these years 
to remove from our air and water.

You and I pray for these things, speak out and vote for these things,
because we are patriotic; because we love our country.

There is no reason to apologize for Serra or St. Louis

Click on the picture to go to its source.

Mobs of the best-credentialed illiterates in history (having graduated from once-prestigious universities with degrees that don't turn into paying jobs) are running wild in the streets of too many American cities, wreaking vengeance bravely against hunks of rock and molten metal. Little None of it is rational; a lot of it is atavistic rage, fueled by hatred of what America is, what the West is (not was; this isn't about history, not really). The iconoclasts have moved from Confederates to Founding Fathers and now to Catholic saints, including Saints Junipero Serra and Louis IX, King of France. Images of Jesus are on deck.

Why these saints?

Louis's sins are two-fold. First, that in his time, Jews were treated badly, and he went along with it, at least to some degree (many popes and princes of the age pushed back on anti-Jewish measures; I don't know if Louis did).

This is true, although it must be remembered, history (like people, because, people) is complicated. The idea of requiring Jews (or anyone else) to wear special clothing, or even some sort of badge, makes us shudder, as it should. That is because we know (alarm bell: too many people do not know) that in the 20th century, Jews (and others) were compelled to wear badges on the way to being degraded in every possible way, before being murdered. Nothing can adequately convey the horror of it; before this fact, we can only fall silent.

So it is quite right that we recoil; but not only is King Louis not Hitler, there is no way you get from A to B without waging total war against A. There are lots of things to fault the Middle Ages for, including misunderstanding the time value of money, and worse, being nasty to the Jews; but they did not talk about exterminating people. Make of it what you will, but what the Christians of the 12th century wanted from Jews (and everyone else) was that they become Christians and live as such, so as to have maximum chances of heaven. That is not hate.

Louis' second "sin" is no sin at all: that is, he joined in the defense of Christians who were being brutalized in the Levant by invading Muslims. In other words, he went on Crusade. Oh, I know that is supposed to be a terrible thing! No doubt you also opposed the Crusade* launched by the Allies in 1944, led by Eisenhower, to come to the relief of Europe? You think that justice demanded leaving the Germans alone, to continue their benevolent rule? Oh, you think that is an unfair comparison? Tell me why.

Junipero's real sin is that he was European and a Christian; that is, he came to the New World in the wake of others, who explored and, unfortunately, also exploited. Junipero came, however, to bring salvation. In doing so, he was an advocate for the natives of California, and his missions were places both of faith and dignity for them. This coincidence is no coincidence: it was precisely from Junipero's Christianity that his solicitude and respect for the natives -- as imago Dei and brothers -- flowed.

No, the only real sin Junipero's critics care about is that he came in the first place. If only Christopher Columbus had never sailed the ocean blue. If only those wicked Europeans had left the Paradise of the New World alone. And it is indeed a tragedy that European explorers also brought disease and, too often, greed and lust and bigotry. But therein lies the problem: original sin.

But I'm not sure that the thugs who bravely assault statues believe in original sin, which is a frightening thought: just where do they think the impulse to steal and plunder and enslave comes from?

To the extent these sad-sacks think at all, I must conclude they suppose sin is a product of external forces; that if only society and thought can be reorganized somehow -- revolutionized -- then sin will be extirpated. You want to know what that looks like? Examine the record of the iconoclasts' saints: Lenin, Mao and Pol Pot. Although I almost certainly give most of them too much credit. No doubt some minority of the mob knowingly embraces communism, the majority are simply too stupid. Yes, I know that is harsh, but let's get real: there is a kind of education that opens the mind, and there is a kind that closes it. These folks have received the latter, and it is terribly sad, for them and for us.

At any rate, let's be candid: all through human history, migration is a constant. All the people's who live on the islands of the Pacific surely did not originate there, neither did the natives who first saw the sails of the Nina, Pinta and Santa Maria rising on the horizon. Everyone is from somewhere else; and almost everyone is descended of someone who took it from someone else. I am not justifying conquest; I am simply pointing out that the Europeans did what everybody did. What's more, if you want to evaluate this morally (of which I am in favor), I ask you: where does your morality come from? How do you know what is really right and wrong? How do you justify it?

The Christianity that made Junipero and Louis the people they became does give a basis for right and wrong; what else? If you say, oh, I have nothing to do with that, then where does your morality come from? If you point to the Enlightenment, I have news for you: that was a product of Christianity. And I have further news, which is sobering: as the roots of the Enlightenment in Christianity are forgotten, so now a new generation, that knew not Descartes and Locke and Kierkegaard, have pretty much forgotten the Enlightenment, or worse, are cheerfully consigning it to the flames. So I ask you again: the moral code that assures you of the wrongness of, well, pretty much anything, where does it come from? What secures it?

Here's another thing. Many people do not realize what it means when someone is deemed a "saint."

Let me explain: it does not mean they were perfect. To be a Christian is to believe that such perfection is impossible, without the constant assistance of God's grace. I think our Protestant and Evangelical brethren get mixed up on this -- they firmly believe in grace, yet they seem to miss the point that if grace is real, then doesn't it, at some point, work? In other words: saints. But in any case, too many people, who aren't as familiar with Christianity as they may realize, simply do not know that the heart of the Christian faith is this: we human beings are so damaged, that only God intervening can save us. That's what it's ALL about.

So if you look for flaws in any saint (out of courtesy to Jesus, we will not do so regarding his mother), you will find them. What's more, of course saints were people of their time, meaning they reflected, to some degree, the attitudes and blindspots of their time.

That King Louis was insufficiently aware of, and resistant to, the prejudices and atmospheric sins of his age (note I said "insufficiently"; he was certainly aware -- read his writings) does not alarm me. But the perfectionism of his critics -- and their unawareness of that -- is positively terrifying.

* Yes, Ike actually called the Normandy landings a "crusade." He also used the term as the title of his memoirs.

St. Remy Holy Mass 7:30am

You want to make a revolution? Start with yourself (Sunday homily)

Here’s a cheerful way to begin my homily: let’s talk about death!

First: death is all around us. Trees and plants die;
and all those dead leaves and husks, along with other things,
makes up the rich soil we use to grow our food.

Second, there is an absoluteness, a finality, in death; 
which is the very point Saint Paul is trying to drive home 
in the second reading. To be a Christian – to be baptized – 
equals an absolute, unconditional, total break with sin.
As total and final as death. There must be no going back.

Next weekend we celebrate the 4th of July, 
and there is usually a ceremony somewhere, 
in which immigrants become citizens.
And part of that ritual is an oath with these words:

“I absolutely and entirely renounce and abjure 
all allegiance and fidelity to any foreign prince, 
potentate, state, or sovereignty, 
of whom or which I have heretofore been a subject or citizen.”

If you can’t say goodbye to those old allegiances forever, 
you cannot become an American.

And that’s what Paul is saying: 
to be a Christian is to renounce sin forever.

Of course Paul knows we struggle with sin; part of his point is to say, 
When you find yourself casting longing eyes backward, remember:
You died. Leave all that behind you, in the grave.
Actually, if St. Paul were here now, he might also say,
That dying isn’t just past; it’s present and future.

Each day’s ups and downs give us a choice:
Die to sin and live a new life. 
Jesus says the same in the Gospel: take up the Cross.

Let’s consider all this fury of demonstrations and destruction.
What people are really worked up about isn’t just laws and injustice.
It isn’t just about history, or statues. It’s about people.
Laws and history are flawed because we people are flawed
and we always have been. 

Every once in a while, someone tries to start a revolution 
That once and for all, is going to purge away all those terrible defects.

But these movements always end up the same way:
Someone setting up a guillotine; a firing squad; a death camp. 

In all history, only Jesus Christ has provided an alternative.
The problem is sin, and it’s universal; it’s not this or that person.
And the only remedy is a kind of spiritual surgery:
Jesus will replace our sin-nature with a divine-nature: his own!
We turn in our sinful life; he gives us his heavenly life.

And that means that you and I, right now, are on the operating table!
The surgery isn’t finished. It takes a long time: a life-time.
Meanwhile, you and I are usually really bad patients!
We fight the divine surgeon; we tell him how to do his job!
Sometimes you and I get up from the table and stop the procedure; 
but then we realize, no, it’s the only way forward.

So if all that’s true, the natural question is, how can we help?

One is to remember the words of the writer, G.K. Chesterton, 
who when asked, “what’s wrong with the world?” answered, “I am.”

It’s so easy to point fingers and blame the President, the Governor, 
the rioters, this group or that – and they all have a share.
But there’s just one person who I can really control: and that’s me.

You want to make a revolution? Start with yourself.
Start with a resolution to kill off one sinful habit.
Go to confession. Tell God you forgive once and for all…
and then fill in a name.

If others express hate and ugliness: you respond with love and peace.
They may not listen; but at least we won’t add fuel to the fire.

May I also suggest not turning a deaf ear?
There is a lot of nonsense being spoken, no question.
But amidst all the noise, some people are hurting and feeling unheard.

There are real troubles facing our fellow Americans, 
including black Americans.
Are there dumb ideas for addressing them? You bet!
The answer is not to turn away and say, “not my problem.”

Next year we will celebrate 200 years of the Archdiocese – 
and 175 years for our parish. 
Archbishop Schnurr has provided a theme: “Radiate Christ.”
Like a candle or a light bulb – in darkness.
That sounds really good right now.

St. Remy Holy Mass 7:00am

Here's a video of my homily from Sunday. I'm not sure what went wrong with the livestream link I published.

How to be faithful, not fearful (Sunday homily)

In the first reading, Jeremiah knows people around him
are plotting his destruction.

In the Gospel, Jesus says, “Fear no one” – only be faithful to God.

The fear I’m talking about is that which holds us back;
timidity or faintheartedness or cowardice.
These are vices that are opposed to fortitude or courage –
and that virtue of fortitude is what we want and need.

If we are in a conversation,
and we are shy about bringing up an important subject; why is that?
Sometimes there are good reasons, but often isn’t it because
we don’t want to be thought less of?

Jeremiah shared God’s message at the risk of his life.
What do we risk? Being laughed at, or whispered about?

This week we remember the martyrdom
of Saints John Fisher and Thomas More,
who both died because they were faithful
to Christ’s teaching on the permanence of marriage,
when the King of England demanded they go along
with his desire to divorce his wife and marry another.

In our time, so many around us are readily, eagerly going along
with a redefinition of marriage,
which has been declared the law of the land.
Two men, two women, who cares?

It can be so hard to stand up to this,
especially if you are called a bigot,
as members of my own family have called me,
because I will not bend to this redefinition of marriage.

And now the latest idea is that our identity as male or female
is not something given by God, but something we give ourselves,
and is changeable.

Let me just point out that this week, the U.S. Supreme Court –
led by one of the justices who was supposed to be our friend –
redefined what “sex” in a way that normalizes what is unnatural;
and it will spark great mischief.

Along with the decision five years ago redefining marriage,
This line of thinking means that when you and I insist
that male and female are hard, physical facts – not mental inventions! –
according to the new normal, you and I are nuts; freaks.

I have said this before, and I say it again: it’s going to get worse.
You may try to ignore this, but those pushing this revolution
aren’t going to ignore you. They are coming on all fronts.

You and I must fortify ourselves for the day
when we will have to stand up, alone like John Fisher and Thomas More,
for the truth! In this case, that male and female
are made for each other and for children:
that’s what marriage is; that’s what family is; and that’s what sex is.

Pope Francis has called these theories
about marriage and sexual identity “demonic.”
Strong language, but he is exactly right;
because what is under attack is not just some old rule.
What’s under assault is what it means to be human.

When God had finished his Creation,
with the man and woman his crowning work, he called it all “very good.”
When Satan saw it, he vowed to ruin it all,
And you and I, all humanity, are his main targets.

So notice what’s happening in our time:
the killing of unborn children; the elimination of the handicapped;
so-called “assisted suicide” for everyone else,
especially the elderly and those who are discouraged;
the poisoning of marital life
with contraception and divorce and pornography.

And now, the most breathtaking denial of all:
that being a man, or a woman – are not real, physical facts;
But merely wishes, constructs of the mind!
Why is Satan doing this?
The end goal is that we will know longer know who we are:
the image of God, who he calls to union with him.

Now, that is a hellish vision, and it’s frightening
to see it spreading in our world.
Nevertheless, Jesus tells us: Do not be afraid!

One reason I don’t like giving a homily like this
is because people react with fear,
and that is the opposite of what Jesus tells us to do.

When Saint John Fisher refused to buckle,
he was imprisoned for over a year.
During that time, he was not allowed to offer Mass,
receive Holy Communion or go to confession.
He grew so ill that the king sent his doctors
just to get him well enough so he could be executed.

When the day came, the guard woke him and said, today you will die.
Do you know what Bishop Fisher said?
Let me go back to sleep for another two hours!
Does that sound like he was afraid?

You see this time and again:
when people have nothing left to lose, there is amazing peace.

This is why acts of penance and mortification are useful all the time,
not just during Lent. This is why we need confession and conversion.
The main battle each of us faces is within ourselves.
As you and I strengthen virtue in ourselves,
we will have what it takes when the time comes.

Jesus warned us the world would go mad. Do not be afraid!
He is patient; be patient!
This world and its idols will not last forever, but Jesus reigns forever!
By his grace, may we remain faithful witnesses to him!

Lessons from Justice Gorsuch's Bostock betrayal

Our hero (one of)

Not our hero. And not our savior.

Earlier this week, the U.S. Supreme Court, in Bostock v. Clayton County, Georgia, redefined what the word "sex" means in the 1964 federal Civil Rights Act. Now "sex" includes "sexual orientation" and "gender identity." This was authored by Justice Neil Gorsuch, who was nominated by President Trump to replace the late Justice Antonin Scalia. Lessons?

- Don't expect too much in the U.S. Supreme Court, or from politicians' appointments thereto. I'm not saying we shouldn't hope, or work, for the best; and to be fair, Gorsuch has issued a number of good decisions. But so many of us keep hoping that with yet another appointment to the Supreme Court, we'll finally get somewhere. Don't put many chips on that number.

- When it comes to the Sexual Revolution and the madness it has unleashed, the hour is later than you think. Not only did six members of the high court endorse this madness, so did at least one of the dissenters: Justice Brett Kavanaugh, who even in objecting to the outcome, celebrated the successes of "gay rights" and all that goes with that. Message? If you think there is such a thing as natural and unnatural sex; if you think male is for female and vice versa, and if you dare to state that when you look at a man or a woman, you observe their sex is an objective, physical fact, then you are a kook.

- What the High Court really has done is adopt -- without a word of protest by anyone -- a new anthropology. (To be fair, this didn't start with this decision, but this decision completely reflects it, as self-evident as that the sky would seem to be blue (although that may be a social construct! Stay tuned for epistemological updates from the Department of Right Think).

- According to this new anthropology, human beings are not really one race oriented around a complementarity of male-female -- which would seem, on massive evidence, to be the product of many eons of evolution. Irrelevant!

No, in fact, humanity sorts into many sub-species: the female-oriented male, the male-oriented male, the male-oriented female, the female-oriented male, and potentially many more. Indeed, it would seem to be a heretical opinion to state any limit to the subspecies, because that offends against autonomy and self-definition and self-creation, which are the highest truths, higher than mere scientific truth. This new taxonomy of human beings is not unlike the old racial classifications that sorted people as black, mulatto, octaroon, etc., and rigidly defined your options in society. Today we do the same with "gay" "straight" "lesbian" "bisexual" and whatever else can be asserted, saecula saeculorum.

- Also, under this new truth which the Supreme Court accepts -- and cannot imagine anyone (but kooks) not accepting -- it is offensive to examine nature and attempt to discern any purpose or end. Notice how a dogma -- that sexuality must not be spoken of as natural or unnatural, as purposeful or contrary to purpose -- overrides a basic element of science: that of observation and deduction and hypothesis.

- The most breathtaking assertion of this new anthropology is that mere physicality, mere, objective facts, are less important, and must yield to, the will. Autonomy uber alles! So when you are I observe that "Sylvia," who "identifies" as a woman, actually has the physicality of a man, not only is this fact irrelevant, it must be silenced. We may, grudgingly (for now) see the facts of Sylvia's body, but we must not live or act as if we believe what we see. When Sylvia asserts that she/he/xe is male, that is the final word.

- Lots of conservative people fall into the trap of deeming this about religious belief, and of course, so-called "progressives" are only to happy to agree. Far better to say that this is all about some obscure religious belief, rather than about objective, observable facts and the conclusions that may and often must be reasonably deduced from them. That "progressives" have gone in for this mindset is one reason among many why I use the term in quotes, because this would seem to be "progress" to a way of thinking darker than any tendentious claim of "Dark Ages" of the past.

In the "medieval" ages, the Church was engaged in a titanic struggle over whether the world was knowable, and that it operated according to reasonable, discoverable truths; or whether it was none of these things. And the Church was on the side of reason, because that is a necessary inference from "In the beginning was the Word..." Progressives, in their hatred for the Word, and his governance, have opted for a world view that all that matters is will; even matter doesn't matter. This is, quite simply, Satanic.

- So I strongly urge those who share my alarm -- my kookiness -- in the face of this madness not to go along with the notion that we are defending a religious truth. No, we are defending a truth that requires no particular religious belief at all. That the Bible asserts the existence of the sun, moon and stars does not make defending their reality merely a matter of "religious freedom." And lest you think I am making a leap, tell me: what is the difference between asserting that male and female are merely "social constructs," and asserting the same about the stars?

- The word for what Justice Gorsuch takes as self-evident is madness, and it is no good thing, even if we religious people may be able, for a time, to huddle under the protective cover of exemptions provided by law. We may win some future cases, in which we are graciously permitted to remain sane within the confines of our homes or our churches, but this is a poor bargain, and not much to celebrate.

- Meanwhile, if you are a Christian, there really is no reason, finally, to be surprised, and none to be afraid, and certainly none to be discouraged. Do pray. Do strengthen your own virtue in preparation for your own trials. "Take heart! I have overcome the world!" Jesus said. Either you and I believe that or not. It's bad, and it's going to get worse. We may all end up with our heads on pikes for all I know. But think of St. John Fisher, condemned because he would not deny reality to normalize King Henry VIII's lusts. When he was awakened on his last day and informed he would be executed later, he asked if he could sleep another couple of hours. He was not afraid; why should he have been?

Bearing witness along the way (Corpus Christi homily)

This is Corpus Christi – and in case anyone doesn’t realize it, 
that’s Latin for “Body of Christ.” 
After the 11 am Mass, 
we will have our annual Corpus Christi procession. 
It feels good to be able to do normal things again, doesn’t it?

This coming Friday, we will have our annual Men’s Prayer Walk. 
We will meet at P___ and S___ F_____’s home and from there, 
walk about a mile or so along Darke-Shelby Road. 

All men and boys of all ages are invited; you don’t have to be Catholic; 
and if you can’t walk, we will have something to ride. 
Even if it rains, we will still meet, 
because the F_____s have a big barn, dedicated to our Lady.

So, that’s two opportunities in the same week 
to go walking for the Lord. 

And then I think about the first reading, what are God’s People doing? 
They are walking, in this case, through the desert. 
For Israel, their 40 years in the desert 
was all about purifying and preparing them 
for the promise that lay ahead. 

And while that’s still true for us – 
that’s what our journey through this life is all about – 
the walking we do on Sunday, and again on Friday, 
is mainly about exercising our share in the priesthood of Jesus Christ.

 
When you and I were baptized, Jesus gave each of us a share 
in his ministry of being a priest, a prophet and king. 
Maybe you didn’t realize you were part of something so awesome – 
but you are! You aren’t just a spectator or along for the ride. 

We talk about the privilege and responsibility of being a citizen.
Some of the people who are smashing things seem to hate this country, 
but you and I know what a tremendous gift was given us, to be citizens.

To be baptized, to belong to Jesus, is all that, but so much more!
We love our country, but the Promised Land we march to is heaven.
Along the way, you and I have the high responsibility
of praying and interceding – 
for our community, for our country, for one another. 

That’s what our Sunday procession and Friday walk are about.
Therefore, if you can’t walk, you can still participate. 
Come stand or sit on the sidelines, or follow along in a golf cart; 
or participate at home in prayer. 

The point is, Jesus is offering himself – on the Cross and in the Mass – 
for the salvation of the world, and you and I are privileged 
to join him in this great task. 

And if you say, well, isn’t that what we’re supposed to do all the time, 
you are exactly right. 
But we do these things, once a year, as a sign – 
to our community, to our own selves – 
of who we are and what our mission is.

When you and I lift up Jesus before others in the monstrance – 
that’s the ornate object we use a kind of throne for the Lord –
that is also what you and I, each of us, is supposed to be every day.
The “monstrance” shows and honors Jesus,
which is what you and I are here to do.

Let me emphasize that anyone and everyone can participate. 
This is a great opportunity to bring somebody along. 
Maybe a family member or friend who is a little disconnected.
Or someone who isn’t Catholic, who doesn’t have any church home. 

Just tell them we’re doing these things as public witness and prayer, 
and it will be very peaceful. 
After people have been cooped up for several months, let’s get out! 
And after witnessing so much ugliness and anger in so many places, 
let’s take to the streets not with violence and fury, 
but bringing the Prince of Peace! 

The Eucharist and the Trinity (Sunday homily)

The old Baltimore Catechism had a question and answer 
that I bet a lot of us can recite by memory. 
The question was, why did God make me? 
And the answer is, “God made me to know Him, to love Him, 
and to serve Him in this world, 
and to be happy with Him forever in heaven.”

In other words, what Jesus said in the Gospel:
“God so LOVED the world, that he sent his only son…”

This is important, because a lot of people really don’t focus 
on what that love actually means. 
Maybe they believe God exists, but he leaves us on our own. 
Or, they think God just has a vaguely positive attitude toward us. 

But neither of those are love. 
If a mom or a dad left their kids by themselves, 
or else just let them do what they liked and said, “hey whatever!” 
No one would call that love.

So to use the words of today’s Gospel:
God did not send his son into a world that didn’t need him!
And God did not send his son, to be indifferent to the world;
No: “God so LOVED the world…

Love is involved. Love is passionate. Love hangs in.
Love pays close attention. 
As kids, we know our parents love us for many reasons. 
One is when we realize, slowly, 
how much our mom and dad sacrifice for us. 
Another is that we know our parents won’t just give us 
whatever we want; but they will always give us what we need.

There’s another point here, and this is for many who are listening.
Many people allow fear to rule their faith.
“Fear of God” is a good thing, but there is both 
something called “holy fear” and “unholy fear.” What’s the difference?

Holy fear says, I don’t want to hurt my father or mother on earth,
or my Father in heaven, out of respect and reverence. 
But under, above and behind that is a certain knowledge 
that your parents – and your heavenly Father – 
have an unshakable love for you.

Meanwhile, unholy fear freezes us and fills us with worry.
Maybe I didn’t confess my sins exactly correctly? 
Maybe God didn’t forgive me? I’m sure God has finally had it with me!

Listen once more to what Jesus said:
“God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world,
but that the world might be saved through him.”

God is not a vindictive referee who can’t wait to throw a flag on you: “Gotcha!” 
No, God is like the coach, or the parent, who roots for you, 
who backs you up, and when you fall, picks you up, saying, 
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you!”

Today is Trinity Sunday, and we recall that Jesus himself taught us 
that the Father is God, he, the Son, is God, and the Holy Spirit is God; 
not three Gods, but only one God. 

You and I don’t have to grasp this or explain this fully.
We believe it because we believe him. 
We trust him, listen to him, stay close to him:
and we will be happy with the Divine Trinity forever!

The reason Jesus came into the heart of the world, 
becoming one of us, was precisely to bring us into the heart of God; 
into the very center of the love of Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

Today we will have First Holy Communion for our second graders. 
They have hungered for this moment,
and this year, of course, they had to wait an extra six weeks.

That love, that hunger, that is the Holy Spirit in you!
It is the Holy Spirit who loves the Father and the Son;
And so he draws you where the Son came to bring you: to the Father!

The Holy Mass is how we experience this. 
The Mass is a summary, a making-present, for us, 
of all that Jesus did for us.

In the Gloria and the Creed, we recall his birth;
We hear his teaching in the Gospel;
You and I gather with him, with the Apostles, as if at the Last Supper;
And with Mary, we are at the Cross with him.

But we aren’t afraid, because we know he rose from the dead.
We know he reigns in heaven forever – and will bring us to be with him!

And the Holy Eucharist is what Jesus gives us, again and again, throughout our lives, 
so that we’ll know and hear Jesus say:
I came here, for you, to love you and to save you.
I came to you, to bring you with me to heaven, forever!

When you and I receive Holy Communion, 
we are not receiving a “thing,” an object; but a Person.
A living, breathing, passionate, loving Divine Person: Jesus.

The Eucharist is sharing – communion – in all Jesus does, and all he IS.

Second graders, maybe you think, this is over my head.
You know what? It’s over all our heads, mine too! But it’s OK!

Like the Trinity, you and I don’t have to grasp this fully;
It is God who grasps us fully! Our hands are small and tentative;
God’s embrace of us is loving and strong, he will hold on to us forever!

This is your first Holy Communion, with so many more to come.
The most important, as I’ve told you before, is that last communion; 
that last taste of heaven in this world, before we close our eyes the final time, 
and discover Jesus was true to his word:
He led us safely home to be happy with him forever.

Bad priests, bad cops

Creator: Octavio Duran | Credit: CNS photo/Octavio Duran

As we all know, there are some who are called in a special way to protect and to serve. Their task is to lead, by word and example, others to a place of safety, and to protect against forces of evil. They are entrusted a great deal of power and responsibility, which if they misuse, can cause tremendous harm. Accordingly, we expect these individuals to be carefully chosen and vetted, and given extensive training, and subject to careful oversight.

Even so, sometimes these individuals fail in their duties to protect and to serve; what is appalling is when those who have responsibility for overseeing them, and enforcing upright conduct, likewise fail by looking the other way or slapping them on the wrist, or shifting the wrongdoers around.

All that said, when people point out these things, there can be a great deal of defensiveness: how dare you attack these self-sacrificing people who put their lives on the line for others? People don't appreciate how difficult their task is; they should just be grateful, rather than slander the whole group because of the wrong actions of a few.

Did you think I was talking about the situation with our police in the wake of the death of George Floyd in Minneapolis? Actually, this was kind of a trick: I was describing the misconduct of priests, and the inaction of bishops, but of course, I might just as easily have been talking about misconduct of police officers. It occurred to me this morning that there are lot of parallels.

Both police officers and priests:

- are supposed to be the good guys.
- are given significant power and authority to influence the lives of others.
- deal with people in very difficult situations and see others at their worst.
- often work very hard and long hours and don't always feel appreciated.
- are misunderstood and treated with great disrespect by many, sometimes even feared.
- face a lot of stress in their chosen profession, and sometimes deal with that stress in poor ways, whether isolation, alcohol or other addictions.
- should be given extensive training; sometimes that training is lacking.
- among themselves emphasize a sense of brotherhood that can turn clubby and arrogant.
- sometimes make excuses for each other and cover for each other because most people just don't understand what it's like.
- get shifted around by supervisors when they do wrong and -- with their supervisors -- aren't always held accountable.

I can't know for sure, of course, but I think it's most likely that the rotten apples don't start out rotten. Either they start with small compromises that are followed by more and more; or they get cynical; or they get drawn into someone else's corruption; or they rationalize and minimize their immoral behaviors, trying and failing to contain them.

When we are talking about priests who preyed on children or vulnerable adults, what appalled me as a priest was the failure of bishops to act decisively. It has been called "the priest scandal," but in fairness, it might easily and justly be called "the bishop scandal." To this day, the accountability that was applied to priests has not yet been applied to bishops. A priest can and will be removed immediately upon only an accusation, and he may never get his good name back, even if that accusation never goes to court, and is never really substantiated. A priest operates under a guilty-till-proven-innocent standard. We're told that's necessary for the good of all. But I must point out, this standard is not applied to bishops. But because pressure really built up after the exposure of the misdeeds of former Cardinal Theodore McCarrick, bishops are now subject to some measure of accountability, although it doesn't work the same as how it works for priests.

Now let's talk about police officers. When they misuse their power and authority, they are subject to investigation, and I can only imagine how that can be. Sometimes they are removed, sometimes not. Sometimes they are indicted, sometimes not. They are not often convicted. One reason why is that the courts, over the decades, have developed a legal doctrine of "qualified immunity," which -- as a non-lawyer, I will describe this way: people who act in their capacity as public officials or law enforcement, enjoy some measure of immunity from legal consequences when things go wrong. No doubt there are good reasons for this, but it should also be obvious that if it goes wrong, or is misapplied, then wrong-doers are going to get away with murder. This is exactly what people have been talking about in recent years with cases of police officers implicated in suspicious deaths of people in their custody. So often the issue focused on is race; and while there's no doubt race plays a role, the issue of qualified immunity is neglected.

Another similarity is that a lot of us want very much to believe priests and police officers are good guys, and in the case of juries where police officers are on trial, I can only imagine the difficulty they are in. After all, the law is: innocent until proven guilty, beyond a reasonable doubt. Yet when police are enforcing the law -- usually against bad people -- there must be all kinds of ways to entertain reasonable doubt. And for a long time, this is how it was for priests, with the "jury" made up of parents, parishioners and public officials. Children would bravely report that a priest had done wrong to them, and they weren't believed. Even by their own parents; and even judges and law enforcement waved away the accusations. It wasn't just bishops who looked the other way. But finally the stench became too great and now priests enjoy no immunity at all.

One huge difference between priests and police officers? The latter have powerful unions. The difference between the higher-ups in charge of supervising police, and those who oversee priests? Bishops don't have the benefit of "civil service" protections; and they don't collect taxes.

The death of George Floyd, under the knee of a police officer, has sparked days of riots and looting, in the name of "protest"; even as others genuinely are trying to protest, and protest they must. There is a need for reform. By all means, let's say again how terrible racism is (and it is), and do what we can to eradicate it. But maybe it is time to review the laws and protections that make holding people accountable harder? Maybe it's time to increase the accountability for those higher up the food chain? Some of these are political questions, of course; meaning, that voters must be prepared to hold elected officials accountable. That's all of us.