A Shepherd's Post

Priests: We Just Love Our People

2012-02-26T22:23:00.000-05:00

Priests often know an awful lot about a lot of people. Besides the obvious matter of being told people's sins in confession, we are trusted with a host of other things as well. We know about a person's illness, marital problems, embarrassing family situations, addictions, and conflicts. It is a great privilege to have the confidence of so many people and to be one who carries their secrets.

This privilege has some interesting side-effects. Firstly, I think it makes priests much more inclined to mind their own business. We know that there is a lot of pain, embarrassment, sorrow, and weakness in the lives of everybody. We have no interest in knowing more than we have to know. While we love the fact that people entrust us with their secrets, we are not so interested when people want to tell us the secrets of other people. Confide in us about your own life, we are all ears. But--and I imagine I speak for most priests--we are not particularly interested in the latest gossip about the Smith Family. We love holding the secrets of others only so that we can help them in their life. But, we don't love knowing these things simply for the sake of knowing them. The last thing in the world I'd ever want to watch are these reality TV programs where people reveal all sorts of sordid things in order to entertain spectators. What a sad reality that is.

Secondly, I think knowing these things makes priests far more understanding of the human condition. Now some would think that "understanding the human condition" ought to mean that the priest lightens up on Catholic teaching. But the opposite is the case. If you've seen what unchastity does to families or what abortion does to a woman, you know more than ever that the Church is completely right. You want to preach the truth on these matters in the hope that someone will be saved from such situations. Preaching the full truth about worshipping God, loving our neighbor, the virtues, the destructive nature of sin, the life that grace offers etc, all of these things are ways of loving our people. People are far more inclined to trust a priest if they know that he is not seeking to cultivate favor with them by misleading them. I've often found that the most hardened of souls are the ones who are most appreciative of knowing that the priest they are talking to is going to give them the straight story.

At the same time, it also makes us more apt to cut people a lot more slack than others might grant them. In my preaching, for instance, I am going to say that we are bound to attend Mass every Sunday. That's the truth. Not to preach that would be to do an injustice to those whome we are called to serve. At the same time, I'm eating dinner, having a beer, and sharing a laugh with the person who comes only monthly or never to Mass. Knowing the depths of the burdens that people carry (even if it is the burden of their own sins), makes me love them more, not less. (I should happily add that these people are also abundantly patient with all of my flaws too!) Or, sometimes people in a parish might be really annoyed at that mother whose kid has acted up all through Mass. But, the priest might know that the child has a serious condition and the mother was abandoned by her husband. So, the priest is inclined to cut her some slack. He's even inclined to cut the next one the same slack--just in case she's in the same boat.

Why write about all of this today? It's Sunday. I spent the whole day encountering people who come from real families with real problems, real pain, real sin, and real sorrow. I know them. I know a lot about them. And, knowing them is to love them. Priests know their people and priests love their people.

The Church's Liturgy Knows Me All Too Well--Thank God

2012-02-23T21:41:00.000-05:00

Simon of Cyrene Helps Jesus to Carry the Cross

In the very first moments of consciousness this morning, I lay in bed and thought, "Did I give up too much for Lent?" I began coming up with loopholes and compromises to extricate myself from these Lenten disciplines. "After all, it is really only the first day of Lent, so I could still back out before it is too late. I don't have to be a hero." (As if my disciplines were even in the neighborhood of heroic.) How in the world on day one am I already weakening in my resolve? A few weeks, maybe. But day one?

Not surprisingly, the Liturgy today was prepared for me and my weakness. The Liturgy not only reveals to us something about God, but because the Liturgy is the action of Christ, it reveals to us something also about man. In today's instance, it was as though the Liturgy were anticipating that less than 24 hours into the penitential season, we would already be thinking about taking a different path.

Mid-Afternoon Prayer today provided this gem from the Letter to the Hebrews: "Do not surrender your confidence; it will have great reward. You need patience to do God's will and receive what he has promised" (Hebrews 10:35-36). The Church's Liturgy was reminding us that what we are doing will have a great reward. And, I like rewards. So, all of this fasting etc is not just about fasting. There's a reward involved. That helps me. Yeah, sometimes I need a bit of a bribe. Fasting . . . reward. Fasting . . . reward. Okay, I can hold out a little longer.

The Mid-Afternoon reading from Hebrews only alluded to the promised reward. But, the Gospel of the Day gave the full picture:

"If anyone wishes to come after me, he must deny himself
and take up his cross daily and follow me.
For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it,
but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.
What profit is there for one to gain the whole world
yet lose or forfeit himself?"

What's the reward for struggling to keep the Lenten disciplines? Well, Jesus says that it's bigger than gaining the whole world! That's my kind of reward. We keep these disciplines and take up the daily cross so that we "come after" Jesus. Without the Cross, we lose everything. We lose ourselves. But, if we accept willingly a sharing in his Cross, then we are saved. Whenever we take up the Cross, we receive the ultimate reward--God.

Jesus is always found on the path of the Cross. So, when we take that path, we always "come after" him. We always find him. Thus, our fasting, prayers, and almsgiving are always rewarded with nothing less than Christ himself. This is totally awesome! We give up a little food, a little time, a little money. And in return, we discover Christ. And, the Collect for the day reminded us that we were not doing this solely on the strength of our own will. We begged God: "Prompt our actions with your inspiration, we pray, O Lord, and further them with your constant help, that all we do may always begin from you and by you be brought to completion. Through our Lord Jesus Christ." In other words, it's not only at the end that we get the reward. We are prompted, inspired, helped, and brought to completion by God.

Tonight, as I preached about these things to those who were gathered at evening Mass, the smiles on their faces confirmed that the Church's Liturgy was not only directed towards this one man--but to every man and woman in the church. At first glance, the whole "take up your cross and follow me" thing sounds like an invitation to drudgery. Instead, it was a word of consolation to those who heard it. The Church reminded all of us that we are in this Lenten season for the reward!

Along with the new translation of the Liturgy came a special treat. The new missal restored the traditional "Prayer over the People" during Lent. As I said that prayer tonight over my people, it brought a smile to my face because it confirmed exactly what I had just preached about:

"Almighty God, who have made known to your people the ways of eternal life, lead them by that path, we pray, to you, the unfading light. Through Christ our Lord."

So, if you're already getting weak in the Lenten discipline department or if you haven't even attempted to start, let today's Liturgy encourage you: There's a reward involved.

The Battle Is On Baby

2012-02-21T22:32:00.000-05:00

Every four months or so, I have to get my blood drawn. Neither the needle nor the blood bother me. But, the preparation kills me. Fasting for twelve whole hours? Are they kidding me? Does coffee count? What's the earliest appointment I can have? Okay, if I make it at 8am, I can eat right up until 8pm. Maybe I could go to bed early or something so that the pain of fasting won't be so obvious. Those hours from 8pm until 10pm will be pure torture. Of course, there are many nights that I eat nothing during those hours. But tell me that I can't eat for those hours and I become concerned that I could starve to death. And I know that when I arrive at the doctor, the woman with the needle is going to ask me, "Did you follow the fast?" So, there's no cheating. I try to remind myself how there are truly infirm persons who have to do this constantly. I even pray for them. Though, after twelve hours of fasting (7 of them while sleeping), I am in such a weakened condition that I can only pray as best I can.

Okay, I exaggerate . . . slightly. I just want to convey that I can be a bit of a BIG BABY when it comes to fasting. Don't get me wrong. I definitely like the idea of fasting. It is just the whole putting the idea into practice thing that I find . . . distasteful. But, here we are at the beginning of Lent. We are in it now. At the end of the forty days, there will no technicians waving a syringe at us asking us whether we fasted or not. But, if there is even the slightest remnant of some serious level of Catholicism left in a person, his conscience will pierce far more uncomfortably than any syringe. The Church often refers to Lent as "a season of Grace." Imagine that. Fasting is not a torture. It is a gift. "Is that," it might be asked, "just spiritual anesthetic talk just to take the pain away?" Actually--and we all know it deep down--fasting is good for us.

Fasting provides us many gifts. In no particular order:

It provides us with a clearer self-understanding. When we fast, we sees how we lack self-mastery and our faults become far more visible to us.
But then, we come to grow in self-mastery.
We become more capable of resisting temptations of all sorts.
We think of God more often and pray to him more fervently.
We become more humble .
We hunger more for God.
We are more united to Christ.
We are more sensitive to the poor and the weak and grow in charity.
We are more engaged in the spiritual life and more agile in fighting spiritual battles. Our spiritual sense becomes more acute. Like a great general might be able to anticipate and respond to various situations on the battlefield, we become better able to read the spiritual battlefield.
We are far better able to see our sinfulness, acknowledge our sinfulness, and repent.
We grow in our love for the Eucharist and the Word.
We have a far more personal relationship with Christ.

Some of the above are a bit redundant. I'm just trying to convey some varying shades of difference. The bottom line, however, is that fasting is awesome. It's definitely hard. Especially if you're like me . . . a big baby. But, the fruits of fasting are totally awesome and worth every minute.

So, we should all take it seriously. We might fail. We might fail many times. We shouldn't give up. If we fail, then we at least know something about ourselves: WE ARE BIG BABIES. So, it has already been a gift. But then, we must pick up and begin again.

Lent is kind of like a spiritual boot camp. If we try and fail, there aren't going to be any casualties. In so many ways, the one we are fighting during Lent is ourselves--our fallen selves. We are purposefully engaged in this battle so that when our most hateful Enemy comes after us, we are prepared to fight him. We will have the resources, the virtue, and the skill to outwit him. The Lenten battle with ourselves prepares us for when the Devil attacks. When he does so, our Lenten boot camp training will kick in. We will know immediately how to turn to our Lord and his army of saints and angels. We will be prepared to stand fast and fight the good fight.

So, if you're kind of a big baby, no worries. This is Lent. It is spiritual boot camp. We are all in it together. (Even the seemingly tough guys are big babies). A little physical hunger and a lot of spiritual reward await us. And we can all encourage one another and pray for one another. To be sure, our enemy the Devil is indeed prowling about seeking an opportunity to destroy Christians and the Church. So that we might not perish at his hands, let's start doing a little training. Let's put our old self to death and put on the new man, Jesus Christ.

Loving God in Our Bodies

2012-02-19T15:07:00.000-05:00

Michelangelo's Pieta

They've dressed me, fed me, tied my shoelaces, blessed me, thrown a Frisbee, broken a fall, climbed a tree, embraced friends, scratched my back, flagged down assistance, and a thousand other helpful things. Over the years, I've discovered that I've become rather fond of my hands. They've opened lot of doors for me and are really quite . . .well, handy.

They are my hands. I've had them since the beginning. One owner. And, quite frankly, I'd be pretty annoyed if somebody started interfering with my control over these hands of mine. Does anybody have any right to tell me what to do with my hands? Does the Church? Does God?

Well, before we get to the Church or to God, let's get to my parents. Especially my Mother. How many times in my life did she interfere with me and my hands? "Keep your hands to yourself!" "Don't play with matches." It seems that my authority over my hands does have some limitations. Apparently, my mother exercised the right also to tell her children that fingers don't belong up one's nose. My hands. My nose. It didn't matter. "Take your finger out of your nose." Apparently, disgusting those around you is not a permissible use of your hands. Want to keep your hands dirty and eat with filthy hands? Nope. Yes, they're your hands. But, there are proper ways of taking care of ones hands. You want to eat in this house, you have to wash your hands.

God seemed to have recognized early on the trouble that men could get into with their hands. No offering sacrifices to other gods, no stealing, no taking bribes, no taking an other's spouse, no maiming of oneself, and no killing. For two thousand years or so, the Church has been teaching these same things. We can also add things that we are bound to do with our hands: feed the poor, clothe the naked, care for the sick, give drink to the thirsty, and to welcome the orphan, the widow, and the stranger.

It seems that God gave me these hands, but did so expecting that I would use them according to his will. And, it seems that his will has been articulated through his revealed word and his Church. When the Church teaches me about the right use of my hands, I've never once thought, "Who is the Church to interfere with me and the right use of my hands? They are my hands and nobody should tell me how to use them." I, along with most Catholics, have concluded that the Church has some authority here. My body is given to me by God, but he has certain expectations of how I use this body.

If a new diet phase came down the road in which it was determined the best way to lose weight was to chop off your hands so that you couldn't feed yourself quite so easily, the Church would have something to say about that. Would she give you this advice because she wants to interfere with your control over your hands? No. She would speak because this is the reason the Church is given a teaching mission by Christ. She advises against such an act out of love. Yes, we have hands. But, our hands are given to us as a gift from God and they are to be used in accordance with his Divine Plan. Losing weight might be a noble goal. Cutting off your hands to do it . . . nope.

The idea that one's body is somehow exempt from the life of grace is really an absurdity. To be human is to have flesh. Christ took on flesh to save humanity. The only way in which we are saved is in our flesh. We love God not in the abstract, but in the flesh.

Whenever the Church speaks on areas concerning human sexuality, there is inevitably a protest from some that the Church should not interfere with someone's rights over his or her body. And usually, this protest comes with anger and invective. But, as long as Christians have bodies, the Church is going to talk to us about loving God in our bodies. She will tell us to watch over our lips, lest we curse God or speak uncharitably about our neighbor. She will tell us to watch over our eyes, lest we lust after another man's wife, greedily turn money into our god, or look uncharitably upon others. She will tell us to watch over our ears so that we might listen to the Word of God. And, she will remind us that there are proper ways for us to use our reproductive organs.

What I do find fascinating is the reaction that the Church receives when she teaches on matters of human sexuality. Nobody ever angrily cries out against the Church when, for instance, she tells us that it is wrong to look with hatred on another human being or when she says that we should not use our lips to destroy the good name of our neighbor. Or, there are no angry editorials when the Church says that the human person ought not use his digestive system to drink excessive amounts of alcohol. Yet, these are indeed teachings on the proper use of body parts. Seemingly, it is only when she speaks about matters pertaining to sex that she receives such strong reaction. And not only reaction, but the claim that the Church is interfering with one's rights over one's body.

Jesus came to save me and I have a body. As best I can tell, I have never sinned outside of my body. It is always in my body that I have sinned--in my thoughts, in my words, in what I have done, and in what I have failed to do. When I love, it is always in my body. So, part of the Church's mission is to teach us how to love God and our neighbor. That is always going to happen in our bodies. It is why marriages are consummated. Our bodies matter. All of my parishioners . . . they have bodies. The pews in my church are a little bit uncomfortable (at least, I think so). The reason we know that they're uncomfortable is because the people who sit in them all have bodies. Bodies matter. Matter matters.

I baptized three babies today. I poured water over their heads. It was not enough for their parents to think about having the babies baptized. We needed them to bring the baby to church. We needed bodies there. Sacraments require bodies.

If we are spiritually lazy, we are not going to like when the Church says that our bodies have to be at Mass on Sunday. The unchaste are not going to like when the Church says that sexual activity is virtuous only in the context of marriage and when it is open to the possibility of new life. The gluttonous are not going to like it when the Church says that drunkenness is immoral. But, as long as we Christians have bodies, the Church is going to preach to us about how to follow Christ in those bodies.

The Church proclaims that God so loved the world that he sent his only Son who became flesh; took on a body. In him, we too can love God in our flesh. We can love him in our hands, our eyes, our ears, our lips, and in our entire bodies. No aspect of our humanity is left out of this equation. I'm grateful for the Church because she teaches me and helps me learn to love God with all of my humanity. By her faithful teaching, the Church says something that so many in the world want to deny: that our bodies are way more than just our personal property. Our bodies are not ends in themselves. Our bodies--every last cell of them--are made in order to love God perfectly. That is awesome.

Barbers, Priests, Haircuts, and Confessions

2012-02-16T15:02:00.002-05:00

Today is my day off, so among other things, I went for my haircut. Because I like to keep my hair cut short, about eight years ago, I bought a hair trimmer, thinking that I would be skilled at providing myself a good haircut. Imagine all the money I would save and I would never have to play barbershop roulette again. You know what barbershop roulette is, right? That's when you arrive and see how many people are ahead of you, how many barbers are working, and who in the chairs already is likely to be finished up first, second, third, and fourth. Then you start going through the line-up to see which barber is going to be the one to call you. Because then, you are left with that fateful decision. You will either have to go and get a haircut from the barber who never cuts your hair quite right or you have to announce in front of the whole shop, "Nah, I'll wait for Joe." This is very stressful--the next three to four weeks of my grooming depend upon it.

So, I bought the trimmer and started giving myself haircuts. The experiment was short-lived. With each self-haircut, the back of my head was becoming more and more a spectacle. It was no use. I had to go back to the barbers and, quite honestly, except for that little bit of anxiety when I have to tell some barber that I'm going to pass him up for another barber, I enjoy the whole thing. I enjoy taking my seat among the varied characters who show up at the same time. Some of them know me. Most don't. I enjoy the monthly banter with the barber and I definitely like the finishing touch of a straightedge razor cleaning up my neck. I definitely wouldn't have tried that on my own. Nope, I need a barber. (Though there is evidence that some day down the road, I might not have need of one.)

Before going for my haircut today, I made another stop. I went to a nearby chapel, got into the pew, examined my conscience, and waited for the priest to arrive for confession. I was the first one there and was about 30 minutes early. Gradually, more and more folks arrived and filled the two pews of penitents. Unlike the barbershop, there would only be one confessor so there would be no picking or choosing. Since I am on my day off and was running errands, I sat there in a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. I was definitely the youngest penitent among the twenty or so folks who waited. But other times that I've been to this chapel, there have been younger persons than I waiting.

I kept glancing at my iphone and had the sense that the person next to me was getting annoyed at that. But, I wasn't checking email. (Though not out of any virtue but because the reception was bad). I was checking the time. Confessions are 30 minutes before Mass and the priest was already five minutes late. So (this happened before and the priest told me to definitely feel free to help out if it ever happened again), I stood up and told the folks who were waiting that--despite the jeans and the sweatshirt--I was a priest and that anybody who wanted to come to confession could do so. With that, I entered the box, put on the stole, and started hearing confessions.

Five or six folks into it, I heard a tap on the door. So, I finished with the person confessing and then opened the door to find the scheduled priest waiting. He smiled and thanked me. I came out of the confessor's side of the box, turned left, and went into the penitent's side of the box. After making my confession, I came out of the box in time to hear one old timer who was still waiting turn to a new arrival and say, "That guy's a priest. He came out from hearing confessions and went right back in to go to Confession. Isn't that something?" And they had a good chuckle about that. I have a feeling he'll be telling that story over and over again.

We all need haircuts (at least I do for now). And, I've learned from experience that attempting to be my own barber isn't such a nifty idea. Besides, even if I could cut my own hair, my neck never looks right unless that straightedge razor has been put to it. And I'm never going to try to do that to myself. And, there's something human about showing up at the barbershop and getting in line for a haircut. It says that we are part of the human family.

Similarly, we all need confession. Those who say that they don't, probably do about as good a job on their souls as I would do shaving the back of my neck with a straightedge razor. They'd make a total mess of themselves. As much as I like my barber, I bet he wouldn't put a straightedge razor to the back of his own neck. He's smart enough to entrust himself to the care of another barber. Like all of the other sinners in the world, priests have to get into the line of penitents and humbly confess their sins as well.

Lent is the perfect opportunity to get cleaned up. Outside if you need it, but definitely on the inside.

Encouraged By Great Priests

2012-02-15T23:35:00.002-05:00

This evening one of my friends--who at fifty is considerably older than I am--had a birthday party at his rectory and invited twenty or so priests. The priests, from dioceses around the country serve in varying types of assignments. There were priests from seminary faculties, vocation directors, chancery offices, bishops' secretaries, and a few of us plain o'l parish priests.

As I drove home from dinner, I was filled with a great sense of gratitude for having been with these men. They are priests and they are good priests. They are serving the Church in varying capacities and are doing so with zeal and with love. They are joyful and intelligent. They are about serving Christ and his people.

I don't remember many specific things that I learned in high school classes, but I remember Mr. Hegarty said in American History class, "Good presidents are the ones who aren't afraid to surround themselves with people who are smarter than they are." I've always remembered that.

I think that is also the case in other things in life. Tonight, I was surrounded by priests who are brighter and holier than I am. And I left that dinner a better man and a better priest because of it.

I mention all of this only because I was encouraged by their example. People ought to be really encouraged by the great priests that the Church has. I know there are great priests out there. I had dinner with them tonight.

Faith: Gathered Around the Apostles and Their Successors

2012-02-15T13:19:00.000-05:00

Cardinal Francis George, Archbishop of Chicago

On the Sunday talk shows, Obama Administration officials, when asked about the Catholic Church, continually referenced groups of Catholics who have supported the Administration. They refused to address questions about the position of the United States Bishops. In doing so, the officials were attempting to drive a wedge between Catholics. These officials were suggesting that the Bishops are just one voice among many and that the Catholic Health Association was an equal authority when it comes to the Church. The following is excerpted from a statement by Cardinal George. He was discussing the ad limina visit that he and his brother bishops were making to Rome and how that experience was one of great unity. It is beautiful in its theological explication.

"Even in the midst of this strengthened unity, news of attempts to weaken the unity between the bishops and the faithful have been reported. This is the first time in the history of the United States that a presidential administration has purposely tried to interfere in the internal working of the Catholic Church, playing one group off against another for political gain. What isn’t always understood is that the Bishops of the Church make no attempt to speak for all Catholics; they never have. The Bishops speak for the Catholic and apostolic faith, and those who hold that faith gather around them. Others disperse. "

Accommodation Soup: Looks Great and Will Kill You

2012-02-13T09:50:00.000-05:00

It should come as no surprise that--to use the President's own words--the "wedge issue" his administration chose to use as a first attack on religious liberties and conscience protections involved contraception. This is obviously only the tip of the spear. If the government is able to force Catholic employers--be they private or religiously based--to succumb to this demand, then the floodgates open. In an interview the other evening, the head of the Episcopal Divinity School in Massachusetts could barely conceal her glee at the thought that the government, at long last, was going to impose a mandate on every employer (no matter what their conscience says) to provide contraception. When asked if she wished abortion was also added to this mandate, she was cagey enough to keep avoiding the question. The answer was obviously, "yes."  Much to the chagrin of the secularist agenda, the Catholic Church hasn't budged on the issue of contraception or abortion. So, its enemies are now waging a war of government mandates upon her.

It would only be a matter of time before the Church is forced to include abortion in those mandates. And, what about when some government decides that assisted suicide should be part of "preventive services." After all, what would be a better preventative for suffering than to just kill you outright?  Will Catholics be forced to provide that as part of a new wave of government mandates?  Then, of course, we get into matters of education. Will it be long before the long arm of government begins telling Catholic Schools that they will be required "as a health related issue" to provide contraception and instruction on homosexual lifestyles?

What should be remembered in all of this is that it was not the Church that started this conflict. This was a deliberate and premeditated political decision made by the Administration.  Had the Administration kept the status quo, there would have been no "wedge issue." The Administration has declared a new right, "the right to have your employer pay for your contraception," as having more importance than the right of people to exercise their religious beliefs.

During the Potato Famine in Ireland, Catholics were often subjected to a humiliating choice. In exchange for renouncing the Faith (today, maybe the Administration wouldn't use the strong term, "renounce." Perhaps they would call it "accommodate"), a Catholic who was starving to death would be provided soup. Thus, one who took the soup, would live to see another day, but would be required to renounce his faith in the process. Today, individual employers and religious organizations who have moral objections to providing sterilization, abortifacients, and contraceptives will be put in a similar box by the Administration. Violate your conscience or be put out of business.

As I said above, the wedge issue here is one where the Church is admittedly vulnerable. Why are we vulnerable? Because, for fifty years or so, we have been making our own accommodation with sin. It is fascinating--but hardly accidental--that the very issue that has been ignored in teaching and preaching for so long, is now the wedge that a secularist administration is using to intrude upon freedom of religion. If there is a lesson to be learned in this, it is that accommodating sin (as appealing at it might sometimes appear) always blows up in our faces. The administration wouldn't have picked, for instance, abortion as the first issue because there are still way too many Catholics who stand with the Church on this issue.

We are definitely vulnerable on this issue. As every commentator and news report during the past three weeks has mentioned, the vast majority of Catholics uses contraception. I have three responses to that.

1. Not to be glib, but the vast majority of Catholics have lied, stolen, been impure, gossiped, spoken uncharitably, and failed to give God the proper worship that his due Him. These are all sins. We should all repent. If 98% of Catholics report that they have at some time or another failed to love the poor, that doesn't mean that the Church has no credibility to tell the world that we should love the poor. It means that 98% of Catholics need to repent of the sin of failing to love the poor.

2. Pastors should love their people enough to preach the truth about contraception. I've been a priest for fifteen years. I would hope that my parishioners would say my love for them is obvious. And, I would hope that they would say that when they've heard me talk about contraception in a homily, they knew that I was loving them by those words.

If the reported statistics about contraceptive use among Catholics is accurate, then chances are many of my parishioners are represented in those statistics. Many of them are likely my friends. Some of them who are using contraception probably know deep down that what the Church teaches is the truth. Others probably disagree with the Church's teaching. But, it would be a grave disservice to them if their priest never preached the full truth about marriage.

My personal experience is that preaching on these topics deepens the friendship between priest and people. I think we often underestimate the openness that people have to hearing the teaching of the Church. We presume that they will turn away and become resentful. My experience is just the opposite. Many times, they've never heard the Church's teaching, but they are open to it one they've heard it. For some, it introduces a struggle into their life that wasn't there before, but this struggle is not a bad thing. For some, it brings a full acceptance of the Church's teaching and opens a new and deeper love for their spouse.

I love my parishioners. They are intelligent people and they are people who want to become more and more holy. I trust that if they are presented the Church's teaching with love, it will bring no harm to them.

3. Accommodating disobedience is disastrous for the Church. The wink and smile approach to disobedience on the part of ecclesial personnel is what undermines us the most. You cannot serve both God and mammon. It is one thing to appreciate the struggles that each individual has with sin. It is entirely another thing to have persons in positions of authority who accommodate sin. In Catholic healthcare, education, chanceries, parishes, and seminaries, there cannot be any accommodation for people in leadership positions who oppose the Church on the level of doctrine. They've weakened us the most. When we allow those who do not hold to what the Church teaches and believes to be responsible for enacting what the Church teaches and believes in our institutions, we are setting ourselves up for trouble. If those who oppose the Church's teachings want to set up their soup kitchens and convince people to come and take it, that's their business. But, how dumb are we when we let them bring the soup into our very institutions and peddle it there?

When it comes to people in the pews, I think we exhaust ourselves in patiently and lovingly preaching the Gospel and helping them towards the full truth. Patience, patience, patience.

When it comes to those whom the Catholic Church pays to transmit the Gospel and to lead and guide our public institutions, I think we can safely conclude that we've been patient enough. These persons should be loved and respected. But, we shouldn't be paying them to work against us. The New Evangelization requires putting the right leaders in the right positions. The right leaders--at bare minimum--have to be people who are holding fast to the Faith. We shouldn't be afraid before putting persons into leadership positions to ask where they stand on particular issues of the Faith. If they disagree with certain aspects of the Faith, we wish them well and send them along. If they agree with everything the Church teaches, then we let them go on to the next stage of the interview process. If they give the o'l wink, smile, and cagey answer--then we tell them that they must have missed the memo: those days are gone. The soup days are over. The New Evanagelization has begun.

Gandalf and St. Paul Are Right

2012-02-10T19:57:00.000-05:00

Hamburg 1936

When I preach, I prefer to talk about the Gospel, the virtues, the sacraments, prayer, and things of this nature. When an important societal issue requires words from the pulpit, I usually feel as though time is being taken away from the Gospel. More so, I just feel as though these topics are obvious and don't need a homily. Catholics should know easily enough that--for instance--government violating religious freedom, abortion, assisted suicide etc, are all immoral and deserving of condemnation. But alas, such is not the case. Valuable pulpit time, therefore, has to be given over to explaining to the Faithful why these issues are of such critical importance and why they need to engage the culture on these issues. Although I often feel like they are an interruption to the flow of things, these topics are very much part of the Gospel. They are where the Gospel meets the culture of today.

Inevitably, whenever the gospel and a particular political issue coincide, somebody will declare "there is a separation between Church and state." What is meant by this is that the Church should say nothing about political issues. The Church, however, is completely free to speak on political issues. The Church is called to speak the truth about how God made the world to be. When the Church says, "love the poor," that is a political issue. When the Church says, "Love your enemies," that is a political issue. When the Church opposes racial hatreds that is a political issue.

Sometimes, the Church only needs to preach the principles and then persons have to make prudential judgements on how to apply those principles. For instance, the Church preaches that we have a duty to "love the poor." Now, reasonable persons can disagree on how to love the poor. How is the best way to assist them? What programs are the most effective etc? These can be left to prudent judgments. But, if somebody proposed that the best way to love the poor was to kill them, then the Church would have to condemn this proposal. For the Church knows that we don't love persons by killing them.

At other times, the Church has to preach not only the principles, but also the practical implications. One such example would be abortion. The principle is that it is never morally licit to directly kill an innocent human being. The Church has to draw the conclusion that the unborn child is an innocent human being and therefore can never be directly killed. There is no room for prudent disagreement on this. Preaching against abortion is just a manifestation of preaching about the value of human life, the command of loving our neighbor, and the command of Jesus to love the poor. Who is poorer than a defenseless unborn child? Who is more a neighbor to a man and a woman than the child that they have conceived together?

There is a sense among many Catholics that the Church should not talk about how people should vote. They suggest that if a particular candidate espouses--for instance--abortion and you remind people from the pulpit that they have a moral obligation to support and promote the protection of human life, then you are telling them who to vote for. I regret that the candidate that they like supports the taking of innocent human life, but it's not my fault that he does. Every Catholic, when he or she goes into a voting booth, goes in as a Catholic. They have to vote in accord with the Gospel. In the same way that every Catholic who works in the business world must do so in accord with the Gospel. Does that mean that sometimes a Catholic businessman might have to not lie, cheat, or steal like other persons in that particular company? Yes, that's what it means.

The other day, I saw a photo (posted at the top of this post) of a massive crowd attending the launching of a ship in Hamburg in 1936. The photo depicts the crowds all giving the Hitler salute. In the crowd, one man--August Landmesser--is seen not giving the salute. His daughter, years later, saw the photo and recognized her father. It must have taken extraordinary courage for one man not to succumb to the pressures surrounding him that day. As Catholics, we too have a duty to bring our Faith to the culture. Whether we are surrounded by the powers of hell or whether we are standing alone in the voting booth, we are called to live the Gospel everywhere and to transform society by our Christian Faith. (To be clear, I use the photo above purely as an example of how when somebody acts with integrity in the public square even when it is difficult to do so, we admire them, When I saw that photo recently online, I was touched by the courage and example of that man. Use of the photo is solely about admiring the man's courage and no other implications are intended. I hope that is clear enough.)

Last week, in St. Paul's letter to the Corinthians he wrote, "Woe to me if I do not preach the Gospel." That's quite a statement and one that those entrusted with preaching the Gospel must take seriously. At times, I wish that the culture and the Gospel were not at such odds. At times, I wish that I were preaching the Gospel in old Christendom rather than in the midst of a secularist revolution. I bet many priests feel that way.

This wishing reminds me of an exchange from the Lord of the Rings. Frodo, recognizing all of the hardship that comes with the responsibility of carrying the ring says to Gandalf, "I wish the ring had never come to me. I wish that none of this had every happened." And Gandalf replies, "So do all who live in such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us."

Preachers of the Gospel probably all wish that we were not living in a culture that is undermining marriage and families, promoting the killing of innocent children, coercing religious persons to violate their consciences, and a thousand other attacks on the truth. When we were preparing to go forth and preach the Gospel, we weren't thinking about writing homilies on why killing the sick is wrong or why marriage can only be between a man and a woman. Those weren't the homilies that we were writing. We wish that none of this had happened. But, that is not for us to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us. Woe to us, if we don't use that time to preach the Gospel.

Lenten Friendship: Let Us Be Concerned for Each Other

2012-02-10T09:41:00.000-05:00

The lists have definitely begun. They are written on the back of envelopes, on sheets of notebook paper, and on my computer. Some lists are divided up by days of the week. Other lists are divided up by particular virtues that need growth in me. Other lists are done by the traditional categories of "Prayer, Fasting, and Almsgiving." All of the lists have the same title, "Lent." It's coming. And I need to get ready.

Experience has taught me that I need an exact plan. If I want to take other things on as well, that's fine. But, I need to have the "minimum" list as well. These are the things that I'm going to do no matter what. And, I need to balance it out. It has to involve a challenge. But, it can't be so unrealistic that I spend the whole of Lent failing. I even do a few practice runs before Lent just to make sure that certain things are going to work out.

This coming week, I wrote a little blurb about wanting my parishioners to live Lent together this year; to be in it together. No sooner had the bulletin gone to print than Pope Benedict XVI released his Message for Lent with the theme, "Let us be concerned for each other, to stir a response in love and good works." I always like when the Holy Father agrees with me! His whole letter may be found here http://www.vatican.va/holy_father/benedict_xvi/messages/lent/documents/hf_ben-xvi_mes_20111103_lent-2012_en.html

Lent is a beautiful opportunity for us to deepen our Christian friendship with one another by giving each other the space and encouragement necessary to grow in holiness and virtue. Christ gives us our friendship with one another in order to aid us in our path toward perfection. But, sometimes we hinder one another. We become afraid to change for the better in front of those whom we love for a variety of reasons. What are some examples?

Firstly, we could be afraid of failure. Let's use the person who decides to go to daily Mass as an example. Perhaps, that person is afraid to try going to daily Mass during Lent because if she fails on an occasion to live up to her commitment, she will receive the, "Aha, I knew you wouldn't last" look from her husband. Or, there is the person who wants to abstain from alcohol during Lent but is afraid that if he fails just once, there will be much gloating among his friends that he blew it. Or the person who gives up television or limits his computer use. The fear of appearing a failure to others may well keep him from every trying.

Secondly, we are afraid of changing the image others have of us. Sometimes, we become slaves to the image that others have of us. If we are a drunkard, a gossip, a person given over to silliness, or laziness etc, we feel that everyone expects us to be like this. Everyone has become comfortable with our lack of perfection. We feel kind of safe keeping things the same.

Thirdly, we are afraid of resentment. Strange as it sounds, sometimes people get resentful of the person who tries to grow in holiness. If you decide to pray a little more, gossip a little less, drink a little less, eat a little less, or give a little more to the less fortunate, you could be immediately charged with, "What, do you think you're better than me now?" People get resentful sometimes when somebody grows in holiness. In the face of the person who spends more time in prayer, somebody might say, "Well, I wish that I had that kind of time to pray." In other words, "I wish that I had no other real responsibilities so I could be lazy." Or, have you ever noticed how insistent people become when somebody turns down dessert or a drink? "No, just have one drink. Enjoy yourself." It's like if he doesn't drink on this particular occasion, he is treated as though he were condemning everyone else who is having a drink.

Lent should be a safety zone where we can grow in holiness and perfection with the help of our loved ones. We should encourage one another and give one another space. If our friend fails in his efforts, we want to give him the encouragement to start over again. If he is successful, we want to support him. The disciplines of Lent are a shared reality. Each one of us needs to grow in holiness and in different ways. But, we can live the pilgrimage of Lent together, helping one another along the path. Cultivating virtue, combating vice, deepening our friendship with Christ, and mastering ourselves are all part of the Lenten seasons. None of us should feel alone in this endeavor. We are in it together. We are on the precipice of a new beginning. Following the lead of Pope Benedict XVI, "Let us be concerned for each other, to stir a response in love and good works."

Re-defining and Eliminating the Conscience

2012-02-09T09:51:00.000-05:00

When I was growing up and heard the word "conscience," it usually meant that somebody was telling me that I knew what the right thing to do was and that--difficult though it may be--I had to do what my conscience was telling me. Or, conscience was discussed in terms of whether your "conscience was bothering you." This means that you had lied or done some other immoral thing and now, deep inside, the conscience was nagging. That blasted conscience! It didn't seem to let you get away with anything. And of course, "conscience" could also be used in the context of a rebuke. "Don't you even have a conscience?"

We weren't theologians at eight years old, but we knew we had a conscience. And that conscience didn't make the rules. It was that annoying voice that made you keep the rules. It was that nagging pit in your stomach feeling that wouldn't go away until you set things right again. Conscience when I was eight years old was about doing what was right.

Somewhere between eight and forty, there seems to have been a seismic shift in the way that people use the word "conscience." At eight, "conscience" was what kept one from doing evil. But, gradually it seems that "conscience" has been turned on its head and is used as a "Get out of jail free" card. Have a difficult moral decision to make? Just say your conscience told you to do the opposite of what the truth demands and you're all set. You know adultery is wrong, but tell yourself that in this particular instance "my conscience says it's okay" and you are entirely excused from those marital vows. Do you find some moral teaching of the Catholic Church difficult to follow at times? No worries. Just say that your conscience says, "it's okay for me not to follow the teachings of the Church." See, wasn't that easy? And it isn't just about sexual morality where this comes in handy. The Sunday Mass obligation? Hey, what obligation? My conscience says it is fine to miss Mass on Sunday.

Conscience has morphed into the justification for doing evil and avoiding good. "My conscience says it is fine to use contraception. My conscience says it is fine to miss Mass, not go to confession, to receive the Eucharist unprepared, and to support abortion. And, as long as one announces that it is about his conscience, there is an expectation that the Church should just keep quiet on those issues. In fact, there have been any number of theological advisors to politicians who have given them just this type of advice. "Yes, you're Catholic and the Church opposes these issues, but as long as you follow your conscience, you're okay." These advisors will have much for which they shall have to give an account.
But, something new has happened in the way of conscience. For all of these years, many Catholic politicians have held themselves excused from obedience to the Church because they were "following their consciences." So, the very institution that Christ gives to us to help us form our consciences was treated as irrelevant to "my conscience." But now, these very politicians are part of a secularist agenda that opposes much of what the Catholic Church embraces. And when the Church herself seeks to receive the protection of her conscience, the hellish cries of these very same Catholic politicians are deafening.

For decades, scores of Catholic politicians have held themselves excused from the moral law by playing the "conscience card." Now, these very same politicians are in lock step behind President Obama's mandate that Catholic institutions be compelled by force of law to violate their consciences. See, when it comes to holding yourself excused from the Ten Commandments, the Gospel, and the doctrinal teaching of the Church founded by Jesus Christ (of which these folks say that they are members), the word "conscience" comes in very handy.

But, when people say that the mandates of the secularist agenda of the Obama Administration are a violation of their consciences, these very same Catholic politicians are horrified that anyone would have the audacity to claim that their consciences matter. Obama has spoken. Sebelius has spoken. There is no room for conscience in this matter. It is fascinating really. Sebelius--a self-proclaimed Catholic--has no hesitation in acting in total opposition to the Catholic Church and feels quite justified in doing so. But, when Catholics who oppose her pro-abortion, pro-secularist, anti-Catholic mandates appeal to their consciences, she simply outlaws conscience protection.

And here is where it seems the whole thing has finally been turned on its head. The Church in the United States has allowed Catholic politicians to abuse the term "conscience" for decades. These folks have cynically hidden under a false understanding of "conscience" for a long time and did so with almost no challenge. Their deficient understanding of conscience received little in the way of public correction. And now, they have usurped unto themselves what was given by Christ to his Church. They spent decades ignoring the Magisterium by appealing to their make believe understanding of conscience. And, in large part, the Church failed to correct them. Now, they have anointed themselves to be the new magisterium. Unlike the old Magisterium that looked to Natural Law and to the Divinely revealed in order to teach on matters of Faith and Morals, the new magisterium looks only to itself. And, they have made clear that there will be no room for people's consciences to disagree.
Funny isn't it? These folks were allowed to run wild with their fanciful definitions of conscience for decades and few did much in the way of correcting them. Now, these very same folks are disciplining the Church for appealing to its conscience. Maybe if these folks had been continually challenged over the years on their re-definition of conscience (they seem to like to re-define things), they wouldn't be stomping on the consciences of others now.

Maybe, the Church in the United States ought to look at the past forty years or so and examine how effective our approach has been. Has the predominant "hands off " approach been effective? If not, what would have been more effective? Have these politicians become more Catholic over time or have they become more defiant? Has the present model convinced other Catholics of our seriousness on these matters or has it left them thinking that most everything is up for grabs? Have we been successful in shaping the consciences of our people or have we failed? Is our chosen method a great success story or is it in need of some tweaking?

Perhaps, we could form a commission to study what we've done right and what we've done wrong. I even have a title for the final paper: An Examination of Conscience.

Priestly Fatherhood

2012-02-06T23:14:00.000-05:00

Tonight I heard the confessions of about 15 tenth grade students. I felt particularly on my game. Even though it was at the end of the day, I wasn't tired or distracted. I was happy to be there and besides providing a valid absolution, I hope that I provided a good fatherly and priestly presence. In my heart, I was pondering not only about how much I love those kids, but how much God loves them.

But, it doesn't always happen like that. Now, I've heard stories of people saying that they've been yelled at by a confessor. I have no reason to doubt their veracity, but I've never had that happen. I've had a cranky priest once. And sometimes I've felt like I interrupted the priest's book by going to confession. But, I've never been yelled at. Not even close. And, I have a hard time imagining any of the priests I know yelling at somebody in confession.

But, not every night is like tonight either. There have been times when I'm tired or hungry. There have been times when I'm hearing confessions and at the same time I'm thinking about how it is snowing outside and the snow shovellers haven't arrived yet and Mass is about to begin in thirty minutes. Or, everybody decides to show up for confession in the last five minutes and I have to go get ready for Mass. I want to hear everyone's confession, but the clock is ticking. Do I come across as distracted or impatient? Probably.

And, it's not the confessional alone where things go wrong. I've run into a nursing home to anoint somebody but needed to be back to church in fifteen minutes for Mass. I wonder if when I leave, the family resents that I've spent such a small amount of time with them. Or, when I run into the sacristy after that with five minutes to get ready for Mass, are the people in the sacristy annoyed because I'm not greeting them graciously because I'm trying to find the chalice which somebody put away in the wrong place?

And then, there's the phone number that I wrote down on a small piece of paper so that I could call the person from my car. But, when I get to my car somebody else calls me and I forget to call the person back. That person is probably annoyed too.

And then there are those times when I've tried to help somebody and helping them seems to blow up in my face. Or, they misinterpret what I've told them. It's mind boggling sometimes as a priest. You're standing outside after Mass having preached a homily on forgiveness and mercy. Then, somebody comes out and thanks you for the great homily and they tell you, "Father, thank you. You're right. I'm going to go home and throw my son out on the street." What? ! Wait a minute! That's not what I meant!!! Sometimes, things go sideways just because of circumstances, but the priest is somehow standing right smack in the middle of those circumstances.

This all came to mind today because somebody from my first assignment read this blog and in a comment thanked me for bringing communion to her dying mother some twelve or so years ago. I guess that day I wasnt' rushing, cranky, distracted, or tired. But, it is always nice when somebody remembers something like that.

It seems like this post should conclude with some sort of moralism, like, "Good priests should never be cranky, distracted, or tired." Yeah, good luck with that one. The lesson I draw from it is simply that the priesthood is a beautiful and awesome gift. God knowingly chooses men whom he knows will occasionally be rushing around, cranky, distracted, or tired. He chooses men who might say something the wrong way. He chooses men who run the constant risk of deciding something incorrectly. But, he chooses them anyways. He chooses them to be his priests.

And, the closer people are to the Church, the more they see their priests as loving fathers. Loving fathers who care deeply for them. Loving fathers who get cranky sometimes. Loving fathers who get tired. Loving fathers who have a lot on their mind. Loving fathers who are worried about some person who is in trouble. Loving fathers who are thinking about how they have to get the collection up. But always they see the "loving fathers" before they see a quirk or the flaw. This is obviously not an excuse for priests to be crumbs. Priests ought to live their pastoral life with tremendous joy. This is simply an acknowledgement that in the parish, the priest is firstly a father to his people. He's not firstly the CEO of the parish.

The specific virtue of the priest is called, "pastoral charity." The priest loves the people as their shepherd.. This is why he is sent to the parish. Over time, the relationship between priest and people is built up. He knows them and they know him. But, more importantly than knowing one another is the fact that they love one another. As the psalm says, "He has poured into my heart a marvelous love for the faithful ones."

Thank God For the Laity of the New Evangelization

2012-02-04T06:23:00.001-05:00

Nuttiness breeds nuttiness--especially in the theological world. And, the longer you let nuttiness continue, the nuttier things become. Every so often, some video that depicts a loony-tunes prayer service or liturgical event goes viral. Perhaps it is a prayer service with people tying themselves up in yarn or a Mass with the priest dressed up as a clown. The video arrives on the scene with cries of, "This cannot be allowed to continue." But, we should remember that this is not where the decline began. The decline likely began in some classroom where some well-intentioned student was taught bad theology. Examples are . . . legion.

When I was a seminarian, I was given a variety of pastoral assignments. In one such assignment, the director of a particular program asked me to put together a penance service for a retreat. I looked through the ritual for penance services and selected various options. While most of what I assembled was permitted, there was a big disagreement on the "Examination of Conscience." Included among the items for examination was the question, "Did I attend Mass every Sunday and every Holy Day?" This question, I was told, came from a poor understanding of theology. (This would have come as a surprise to those who wrote the Ritual for the Sacrament of Penance.) I was told that while, "objectively missing Mass on a Sunday might be a sin, subjectively we just can't say." So, that one had to be removed. I made the point that while "objectively not loving your neighbor might be a sin, subjectively, we just can't say either." I thought by making that point, I had won the argument. Instead, it was decided that there would be no Examination of Conscience because "we just can't really know what is and isn't a sin."

In another assignment, the person in charge of youth constantly would ask (as though he were being intellectually provocative), "Well, none of us can really know whether Jesus was God or not or whether the Hindu's have it right and we have it wrong." The head of a Catholic High School once told me that the Church might change its teaching on gay marriage some day because, "The Mass used to be in Latin and it isn't any more." With pseudo-theology like this, the liturgical clown costumes can't be far behind.
There's a temptation when we see these things just to roll our eyes and say, "Well, that's so and so." But, the long-term effects are staggering. Eventually, when Catholic retreats are based on, "What figure in the Muppets do you most identify with?" the whole thing starts to collapse. When the basic approach to Catholic teaching and Liturgy is, "How close can we get to the line without crossing it," the whole thing starts to collapse. If you leave people out in the theological wilderness long enough, they'll soon be dancing around a golden calf, clown costumes and all.

Probably one of the good things about the Internet and these nutty videos that go viral is that we can see how sad things can become. But, if these videos are solely an opportunity to rail against bishops and inundate chanceries with phone calls, they are of little use. More important than stopping liturgical, moral, and theological abuses that spring up everywhere is the need to substitute good teaching in place of bad teaching, good Liturgy in place of deficient liturgy, articulate presentation of the Faith in place of faux-theology.

We see that happening in many places now. In Boston, for instance, there is a new program entitled the "Theological Institute for the New Evangelization." It is a program designed for lay people who desire to deepen their theological knowledge. I have had numerous parishioners take courses in this program and they all come back with greater knowledge of the Faith and with greater love for the Church. The course work is not dumbed down and it respects the intelligence of these students. It is awesome to see lay people being given the benefit of solid and faithful doctrine.

I see it in some amazing Catholic colleges that have sprung up across the country. One example is the University of Steubenville. I see many young graduates from there who are on fire with the Faith and with love for the Church. They have experienced what it means to be part of a Catholic community and they want to share that with others. They love Jesus and they love the Church that Jesus built on the Rock of Peter. They pray in diverse ways, but always in union with the Church.

I see it in speakers who have come to my parish from the Archdiocese of Denver. They travel around the country speaking to teenagers about the Theology of the Body. They show that normal men and women can be holy and can adhere with love to the Church's teachings. They propose an entirely different option to young people. Many times, we seem to present two options to young people. We either have people in clown costumes telling them that the Church's teaching should be changed. Or, we have angry looking people constantly saying, "No." But, the New Evangelization has to be about presenting the Church's teaching in ways that are attractive and comprehensible.

In a particular way, I am very grateful for the awesome lay people who are showing up on the scene these days and who are are introducing something new into the life of the Church in the United States. What they have done is to propose an alternative; the alternative of the Truth. And this alternative is making a beautiful difference in the lives of many. These men and women are doing something new. They are the first line of missionaries in the New Evangelization. They are a generation of Catholics who are starving for Christ and his Gospel and they are joyful in sharing Christ with others. They are not fighting ideological battles. They are following Christ and inviting others to do the same. They love the Church. They love the Sacraments and Eucharistic Adoration. They love what the Church teaches. They saw for themselves what happens to generations who are abandoned to silliness and they want something more than that.

I am increasingly surrounded by people like this. They are re-proposing Christianity to a new generation and are doing so in the midst of a culture that is increasingly less hospitable to the Gospel. But, they've encountered Christ, they've been fed solid doctrine, been nourished by the Sacraments, and have participated in true worship. They are intellectually and spiritually strong and they are part of something new. They are making their way into diocesan offices, religious education programs, Catholic schools, and Campus Ministries. They meet considerable resistance from the old guard, but they just joyfully proclaim Jesus and win by the shear force of their joyful love for Jesus. They remind me somewhat of the Magi. Instead of going back to fight with Herod head-on, they've discovered that they can go home a different way. They are strong in their faith and in their convictions and the secret weapon that they bring to the battle is their joy in Christ.

They remind me of a small seed that despite the very worst of adverse conditions, somehow manages to defeat the odds and emerge as a magnificent tree. These men and women were, in many ways, surrounded by nuttiness. But, God's grace reached them anyways and they are well-prepared to engage the culture with the Christian Gospel.

The New Evangelization is here. No more clowning around.

Commercial For Priestly Vocations

2012-02-02T22:04:00.000-05:00

St. John Seminary in Brighton, MA

I'm a bit impatient when it comes to vocations. So, I'm going to keep talking about it. Jesus has done some great things at St. Mary Star of the Sea in Beverly in terms of priestly vocations during the past few years. The parish is crawling with seminarians and with newly ordained priests. The rectory is always home to one, two, or three seminarians and to priests who age 40 and younger. (Admittedly, I now consider 40 to be young).

I want more vocations to the priesthood from our parish. I don't want to lose momentum. What Christ is doing in our midst in terms of priestly vocations is awesome. But, I want more! So, if you are from the parishes of Beverly, open your eyes and look around. Are there men in our midst whom God might be calling to a priestly vocation? If so, tell me! Don't waste time. Encourage those men! Pray for those men!

If you belong to another parish and think a man there has a priestly vocation, tell him to leave his parish, sign up as a parishioner here, and then call me. Okay . . . not really. Encourage him to talk to his parish priest or to the vocation director for the Archdiocese of Boson, Fr. Daniel Hennessey. If you know of a young man whom you think has a priestly vocation, send him the link to this post. Maybe that is all it will take.

If you are a young man who thinks it is possible that God is calling you, don't wait forever. Now is the time!

What things should you do if you think God might be calling you? Go to daily Mass, spend time in Eucharistic Adoration, go to confession, pray the Rosary, talk to your parish priest, and call the vocation director.

Tonight, I am praying especially for those whom God is calling to the priesthood. I pray that you say, "Yes" to Him.

Just One Little Violation of Conscience Is All We Want. It's No Big Deal.

2012-02-02T11:38:00.000-05:00

St. Thomas More: Beheaded by Henry VIII

Let's suppose that George W. Bush mandated that every employer had to provide to its employees a newspaper every day and that every newspaper that participated in this plan had to include a section dedicated to advancing the policies of the Bush Administration. The justification for this is that people are entitled to the truth and no person should be excluded from receiving information.

Perhaps, the New York Times might argue that it is unfair that they should be forced to print something that violates their beliefs. They might argue that "Freedom of the Press" is being violated. They might argue that it is outrageous that they should be compelled to publish what fundamentally violates their principles. .

But, the Bush Administration might argue that it knows better than these people on policy matters. And besides, just because the New York Times embraces an extremely liberal agenda, they sell indiscriminately to conservatives and to liberals. On their payroll are democrats and republicans. They might even have on their payrolls persons who voted for George Bush. Those employees, says the Bush Administration, have a fundamental right to hear the truth as it is defined by the Bush Administration.

The above scenario is admittedly an absurd one. It is not any more absurd, however, than the Obama administration forcing Catholic institutions to purchase and provide contraception, sterilization, and abortifacients. One big difference between the two scenarios is that one is just imaginary and the other is really happening. The Catholic Church is not seeking to impose its will upon the rest of the country. The Obama Administration is seeking to impose its will upon the Catholic Church.

I wish that I could say that this might serve as a wake-up call to Catholics in the United States, but I think it is too early to put my hopes in that basket. The Church and civil officials ought to work together in a spirit of collaboration and for the common good. But, for a long time, the Church has allowed herself to play the dupe. It might be worthwhile for the architects of the Catholic Church's current model of engagement with political officials in the United States to do a self-evaluation. Has their way of engaging worked? If they answer, "no," then they should come up with a new plan. If they answer, "Yes," then they should be sent off to find a new job because their plan is to lead us into disaster.

Everyone Is Looking For You

2012-01-31T09:07:00.002-05:00

Last evening, I decided to take a quick swing through the high school Religious Ed classrooms just to say, "Hello." As luck would have it, one of the teachers was unable to get to class last night and so I became the last minute--unprepared--substitute for the Ninth Grade girls' class. Initially, I tried discovering what last week's discussion was all about. But, I felt a bit like I was trying to extract top secret information from well-trained spies. They were not going to be forced into revealing too much. I did manage to discover that they've been talking about, "the Bible."

So, we launched into a discussion about Reason and Divine Revelation. Before too long, we were going through some of the traditional arguments for the existence of God and how we can arrive at these things through the use of our reason. If you walked by our classroom last night, you would have seen some ridiculous looking drawings on the whiteboard surrounded by terms such as, "contingent being," and "unmoved mover." Their silence moved towards engagement and, quite honestly, I had a blast.

There's a scene in one of the gospels when Jesus goes off from the crowd for some time to pray. He's been teaching and healing for hours and you have the sense that he needed to "get away" and pray. No sooner does he go off to pray than some of his disciples come and find him. It's one of those times in the gospels that the disciples speak words that are far more profound than they actually intend. They tell Jesus, "Everybody is looking for you." Truer words have never been spoken. Everybody is looking for Jesus. Whether they know it or not, everybody is looking for Jesus. Everybody needs him. Everybody is pining for him.

A parish priest makes present Christ the Good Shepherd in the midst of his flock. That's why the priest exists. And so, when we think about our lives as priests, we have to be thinking about imitating the life of the Good Shepherd. Part of the Good Shepherd's life was that he was constantly sought after and constantly busy. Yes, he went off to pray. But, the people kept looking for him.

In many ways, Jesus' pastoral plan seemed a bit disorganized, chaotic, and unrealistic. During his major events, there were possessed people screaming, not enough food for the crowds, and some serious safety hazards--like people cutting holes in roofs to get close to him. Jesus' mission was to be close to the people.

Sometimes priests spend way too much time attempting to organize priesthood into a well-oiled machine. These attempts seem to be designed to have priests spending less and less time with the people they were sent to serve. We spend countless hours planning ourselves out of existence. In the future, it is said, we won't have time to hear confessions, visit the sick, or spend time with the youth. But, we are told, this will enable us to be more efficient and better able to provide pastoral care. What are we talking about???

I sometimes think of mothers of small children. They must continually feel like, "Everybody is looking for you." Kids are crying, hungry, hurt, distraught, bored, stuck, in danger, and to every one of these needs, children can think of one answer, "Mommy!." Now, no matter how organized a woman might be, there is no way she is going to organize her household in such a way that her children will cease to demand her presence. Why? Because it is in the nature of things for it to be this way. Imagine if we heard a mother say, "No, I've organized my household in such a way that my children no longer seek me out for anything. I have to limit myself to providing only the most necessary things like meals and emergency care. Beyond that, I have to know my limits." We'd not be recommending her for "Mother of the Year."

Similarly, it is in the very nature of parish priesthood that people are looking for us. They look for us for the Sacraments, for well-prepared preaching, for visiting the sick and the dying, for meetings about finances, for decorating the church at Christmas, for the science fair at the school, for high school sporting events, for Religious Ed classes, for advice, for prayers, for adult education, for youth group, for meetings, for parties, for cookouts, and for everything else that has to do with the lives of the people. People are looking for a relationship with their priest. Everybody is looking for us.

It is tempting to look at such a situation and attempt to fix it. To manage expectations. To safeguard ourselves and insulate ourselves from the needs of the people. But, I'm afraid that sometimes we are managing ourselves right out of business. Yes, we need time to pray, to relax, and (gulp) to exercise. But, we exist because everybody is looking for the Good Shepherd and our whole life is meant to respond to that need on the part of the people. Plans that make the priest more remote and obscure are detrimental to the priest and to the people.

Whatever plans we put into place for parishes ought to prioritize the availability of priests to be present to their people. That will mean that the people have to make sacrifices. A future plan for parishes should not be that you take one priest and multiply his workload by three or four parishes. A far better plan would be that parishes focus upon how to have more consistent face time with their priest. That might mean that people have to travel ten minutes to another church for a particular Mass or attend a meeting at another parish hall. Instead of having three youth group meetings in three different parishes, you have one. What's one of the benefits of that? The priest is more likely to be able to be present on a more consistent basis. Priests need to be present to the people. But, for that to happen, parishioners have to be willing to sacrifice the "where" and "when" of those encounters.

I think that one of the top priorities of pastoral planning is to make the bond between priest and people stronger. Making it weaker would be a huge mistake. In fact, when a parish is left without a strong priestly presence for any length of time, it begins to drift off on its own. It becomes detached from the rest of the Church. The presence of the priest is a visible link to the wider Church.

It seems that there are choices confronting the parishes of today. We can opt for a more obscure and remote priesthood where the priest is seen for brief moments and where no true relationship between priest and people develops. Or, we can opt for a model that respects the very beautiful truth that everyone is looking for the shepherd. If we choose the latter, then we build a pastoral plan around making the bond between priest and people stronger. We acknowledge that priests will have to sacrifice more of their time and energy for the sake of the people. And, we acknowledge that the people will have to be willing to sacrifice and be inconvenienced as well. Basically, this model will strengthen the local Church, encourage priestly vocations, and provide the best pastoral headship.

Everyone is looking for us. For priests, that is sometimes frustrating. (Like, I'm sure it is for parents). The fact that everyone is looking for us doesn't need to be fixed. What needs to be fixed is anything that hinders priests from responding to the desire of the people. On the part of the priest, that might mean we need to become more generous, more giving of our time, and more willing to get tired. On the part of the people that might mean giving up the expectation that things should stay the same as they always were. Everyone is looking for us. It beats the alternative! Let's not fix the fact that people are looking for priests. Let's fix whatever hinders them from finding us. Why? Because we make visible Christ, the Good Shepherd . . . and he's the one whom they truly seek.

The Unclean Spirit and the Dictatorship of Secularism

2012-01-29T13:37:00.000-05:00

I have taken a liking to the additional options for the dismissal at Mass. One of those options says, "Go and announce the Gospel of the Lord." In this imperative, the priest reminds the people that what they have received within the walls of the church must be brought "ad extra;" outside to the world. The good news is that Jesus Christ brings freedom and joy. He brings new life. This is indeed good news and we are compelled to announce it to the world.

One of the great blessings of being citizens of the United States is that such freedom to announce the Gospel and to live the gospel is enshrined within our Bill of Rights. In some countries, it is illegal to be a Christian. And, in some places even though it is legal, there are severe restrictions upon how one is permitted to practice his or her faith. A citizen of the United States of America, however, cannot be hindered by the government from following his or her conscience and living their faith outside of the walls of the church building. Well, at least that was true. But now, the noose is being tightened and Catholics are being told to exercise their faith inside the building. Don't try, however, to "Go and announce the Gospel of the Lord" outside of the your designated property.

The Obama Administration, has opened a series of fronts against religious freedom. A few weeks ago, high ranking officials in the Administration overruled their own staff people in refusing to award a federal grant to Catholic Charities to assist victims of human trafficking. The grounds for denying the grant is Catholic Charities' refusal to provide abortion services to those individuals. So, despite receiving the recommendation of all of those reviewing the applicants, Catholic Charities was punished for being pro-life. See, it is okay for Catholic Charities to be pro-life inside the church building. But, don't you dare act that way in public.

Last week, the Department of Health and Human Services--cynically headed by Kathleen Sebelius, a pro-abortion--self-identified Catholic--mandated that Catholics must violate their consciences with regards to healthcare. Catholic organizations will not be exempted from having to provide abortifacient drugs, sterilization, and contraception in their healthcare plans. And Catholics will be forced to pay for these things as part of their plans. The government is thus mandating that Catholics violate their consciences. Again, it's fine for you to have your religious beliefs. Just don't expect to live them in public.

In today's Gospel, Jesus goes into the synagogue and he teaches the truth with authority. Immediately, a man possessed by an unclean spirit starts crying out that Jesus has come to destroy them. It seems that whenever the Gospel is preached, this unclean spirit cries out. The argument levelled against Catholic teaching on so many matters is that it will destroy one's freedom. Some examples:

The Church teaches that every human life is sacred. Whenever this teaching is proclaimed, the immediate reply is: "Such teachings will destroy my right to choose" or, "Such teaching will destroy my authority over my body." What is the reality? I have met so many people in my life whose lives have been truly destroyed by the killing of an innocent child in the womb. Yes, the life of the child has been destroyed, but so have the lives of those who were involved. Decades later, the mother is still haunted by the realization that the life which she had the greatest obligation to protect was taken at her command. Abortion destroys. The Gospel of Life saves people from such destruction.

The Church teaches that marriage is a permanent union between one man and one woman. The immediate objection is that such demands impinge upon a person's freedom. What is the reality? Are children, families, and society as a whole better because of promiscuity, adultery, and divorce? What the Church proposes doesn't destroy families. It saves them.

What Jesus Christ introduces into the world doesn't destroy life. It elevates life. Jesus doesn't destroy freedom. He brings freedom. Jesus teaches with authority because he is the definitive authority on everything. He is God.

Wherever Jesus and the truth that he brings is proclaimed, the Evil One accuses him of bringing destruction. But, Jesus doesn't destroy humanity. He saves it. That man in today's gospel had been tormented by the unclean spirit. It was when he encountered Christ that he became truly free.

As Catholics, we should not buckle under the pressure of the secular society to stay within our church walls with our faith. We are called to bear witness to the freedom that Christ has given us. We are called to exercise our faith in the public square. We are called actively to resist any and all attempts by those who attempt to silence the Church and who attempt to impose upon us unjust restraints. We are called to defend our religious freedom. It is the unclean spirit of secularism that attempts to link the Gospel with what destroys. This is a diversionary tactic. As Pope John Paul II once said, "Whoever builds a world without God, ends up building a world against man."

There is an assault taking place upon our religious freedom. It is intended to silence the voice of the Gospel. There are undoubtedly those Catholics who are ready to surrender on yet another issue of critical importance. Caving in never causes the unclean spirit to be cast out. The approach of capitulation and accommodation is what has brought us to where we are today.

No, we must do as the dismissal of Mass commands: Go and announce the Gospel of the Lord. Today's gospel showed that Jesus teaches with authority, casts out evil, and saves man's freedom. And the gospel concluded by saying of Jesus, "His fame spread everywhere." St. Paul often wrote "in chains," but the Word of God cannot be chained. We need to be a Church that proclaims the Gospel boldly whether we are chained by unjust discrimination or not. We mustn't allow the Word to be chained. May someday people say of us, "Because of them, His fame spread everywhere."

Friendship That Goes Deep

2012-01-27T09:29:00.000-05:00

A few years ago, I had the opportunity to serve as a spiritual director for seminarians and one of the privileges of that assignment was witnessing men who take their life seriously. When a man is considering entering the seminary and when he is actually in the seminary, it is difficult not to take life seriously. There is a persistent and constant awareness that you are called. And, if you are called, that means there is One who is calling. As a spiritual director, it was a privilege to stand with somebody as he sought to understand, obey, and live this call. And, I think that most spiritual directors would admit to a little bit of weariness if a seminarian lacked this sense of awe and engagement in his vocation.

Sometimes, I have had parishioners tell me how jealous they are of the fact that a priest has the privilege of spending so much time in the seminary praying and learning about God. And, they are absolutely right! Some people take a year to go and see the world. And, I wouldn't mind being able to do that. But, a seminarian is given 6-8 years to spend entirely focused upon his relationship with God. How awesome is that?

This all came to mind because yesterday I spent some time at St. John's Seminary in Brighton, MA. I was happy to see a full house of seminarians, filled with youth, joy, and with seriousness of purpose. It is amazing to think how much Christ is doing on that small plot of land. And it is fantastic to see these men living life in a way that is full and not wasteful.

After my visit to the seminary, I had dinner with a young man who is about to be married. As we conversed, I was really moved because I was with somebody who takes life seriously. As I listened to him talk about his life, I thought, "How privileged am I that I should get to be here." When we are surrounded by people who take life seriously, we cannot help but want to do the same.

When I talk about seriousness of life, I do not mean ponderousness, excessive introspection, or the repetition of platitudes. I mean persons who see their life as an engagement with the infinite and who are interested in reality. I feel particularly blessed in my life that people still find the priest somebody who is easily approachable in this regard. The priest is a privileged friend to many.

I love when I hear from a kid I met when he was in high school and now it is ten years later. Or when, out of the blue, I hear from a person I taught at our parish school a dozen years ago, who calls just to talk about life and its challenges. Or, when a young person today builds up the courage to ask me some question of moral importance; the question being an indication of an openness to treating their life more seriously and also an expression of openness to Christ and the Church. These and many other examples of what a priest is privileged to encounter in his life are sources of great joy. As priests, we are privileged to stand by the side of others as they accept the Lord's invitation to "Go into the deep."

Falling Into the New Creation

2012-01-25T08:30:00.000-05:00

Detail from Caravaggio's Conversion of St. Paul

Before a man is ordained to the priesthood, he is first ordained as a deacon. It is on the day of his diaconal ordination that a man makes the promise of obedience to his bishop and the promise to remain celibate for the sake of the Kingdom. It is from that day onward that he is bound to pray the Liturgy of the Hours and is given the charge of proclaiming and preaching the Gospel. For me, that ordination as a deacon took place fifteen years ago this morning on the Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul.

While most priests probably place a higher emphasis on their priestly ordination date, my diaconal anniversary always has been fairly important to me. In fact, the morning of my diaconal ordination, I was a nervous wreck! I knew that when I arrived at the cathedral and prostrated myself on the ground during the ordination rite, I was putting my whole life--my entire future--on the line. I was called to lay down everything. That prostration, for me, was an act of faith--a voluntary offering of my life. It was an act of dying to myself in the hope that Christ would raise up something much better than what I had offered.

It is natural, I think, on an anniversary such as this to examine life and to prostrate back on the floor. It is an opportunity to recall that day fifiteen years ago when in my youth I offered confidently to God my body and my will. It is a moment to recall with gratitude how I was given on that day the Book of the Holy Gospels and commanded to preach the Word. It is definitely a moment to repent. The anniversary of both my diaconal and priesthood ordinations always stir within me sorrow for the countless times when I have failed to live up completely to the call to die entirely to self and to live only for Christ. And, these days stir up in me an enormous gratitude for the great gift that Christ has given to me through no merit of my own.

I am particularly grateful that my diaconal ordination anniversary always coincides with the Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul. This coincidence of dates binds me closer to St. Paul and always holds out for me the hope of deeper convesion of life. On the day when we yearly commemorate his falling to the ground and becoming a new man in Christ, I am given the opportunity to return also in my heart and mind to the ground and renew my offering to Christ, trusting in His grace to make all things new.

When we have a fall, we never seem to recover fully. The injuries that we receive from a fall always seem to linger. That sprained ankle has never been quite the same. Or, when we fall into sin we experience the effects of those sins for a long time to come. Similarly, St. Paul fell to the ground and he was never the same. He fell in with Christ on that day and became part of the new creation. He wasn't the same. He was better.

When St. Paul got up off the ground on the morning of his conversion, his life became infinitely better. On the anniversary of my ordination to the diaconate, I recall that whatever I laid down that morning was a pittance compared to what Christ has given me in return. Sometimes, people say, "priests give up so much," but that is completely false. We lay down our life and Christ gives us something entirely better. And this is true also for every Christian. The more we offer to Christ, the more he raises up something better.

Today's feast is a gift that enables us to go into the ground with Christ and St. Paul, trusting that we who enter into a death like Christ's shall surely also enter into a like resurrection.

Planning For Vocations

2012-01-23T07:36:00.000-05:00

When it comes to priests, not every priestly vocation is identical. Parish priests--even if they have a significant draw towards the monastic life--aren't monks. Similarly, parish priests and missionaries are distinct expressions of the priestly life. Of course, there are always aspects of each expression that inform the others. The life of a monastic in some ways can inform a parish priest about his prayer life. Having a parish priest who is devoted to the Liturgy and to a life of prayer is a good thing. But, a parish priest isn't a monk. A parish priest ought to have a missionary zeal. But, he is not a missionary.

When I was first ordained, I lived with a retired missionary priest. His stories of travelling from one village to the next were certainly exciting and there's a little part of me that desires that kind of life. But, I know that is not my vocation. I was called to the diocesan priesthood. Missionaries go to establish the Church in a particular place. But, their goal is not to keep things in that particular state. Their goal is to establish the Church and then allow those communities to solidify and become true local churches with their own clergy. The ideal is not an itinerant priesthood. The ideal is to establish stable communities with stable shepherds.

Recently, the parishes in my city have been working together to develop a pastoral plan. This is, in large part, due to a reduction in available clergy. Where the whole thing ends up is not known yet, but, I am struck by the thoughtful way that the laity in the parishes are examining the issues. They are not in favor of models that will increase rivalry and competiveness between parishes. They favor models where people are brought into deeper unity with one another. They do not favor models where their priest(s) will become more remote. They strongly prefer models that strengthen the bond between priest and people. It seems to me (and the discussions are only in the beginning stages) that they prefer models that favor strengthening the communion between priest and people and are far more reticent about models that risk making the parish priest more obscure.

One of the major issues confronting dioceses (and thus, parishes) is a shortfall of priestly vocations. Any pastoral plan ought to take into consideration how it will affect priestly vocations. A pastoral plan that makes parish priests more dispensable, interchangeable, and remote will, I think, have a negative impact upon priestly vocations. It would be interesting to do a study of parishes from where seminarians are coming and use that as a basis of pastoral planning. Do parishes that have more priests and that have stability of pastoral leadership produce more vocations or do parishes that have more frequent turnover of priests have more vocations? Do dioceses where priests are spread out more thinly have more priestly vocations or do dioceses with fewer parishes but with more priestly presence in those parishes have more vocations?

As you might surmise, I approach these questions with a bias towards particular answers. But, my evidence is only anecdotal. I was raised in a parish that had many priests assigned to it, had stable pastoral leadership and produced many priestly vocations. I'm in a parish now that has four men studying to be ordained (two religious and two diocesan). My bias is to believe that parishes that have stable leadership, good priests and seminarians living and working together, and that have priests who are evidently happy in their vocation produce vocations. I am inclined to think that vocations work in a parish takes time and contact. The more a priest is able to spend time with young people in a parish, the more likely vocations will come from that parish. The more a priest is able to spend time with parish families, visiting classrooms, hearing confessions, and youth events, the more vocations will floursish. I am inclined to think that the less a parish sees of its priest, the less vocations will be produced in that parish. But, I'd be really interested to know what the statistics show.

I know that pastoral planning involves many complicated factors. But, it seems that if we are going to do something that will have long-lasting implications, we want to get it right. I'd like to throw this question concerning priestly vocations into the mix. What pastoral plan is most likely to produce more priestly vocations? It seems that's a question for which we need an answer.

Why Supporting Bullies Might Not Be So Good For Catholics

2012-01-20T23:10:00.003-05:00

St. Paul Preaching in Athens

Earlier this week, Pope Benedict XVI addressed the bishops of the United States about "powerful new cultural currents which are not only directly opposed to core moral teachings of the Judeo-Christian tradition, but increasingly hostile to Christianity as such." As if on cue, the Obama administration today announced that it would not allow allow religious organizations to be exempted from providing abortifaicients, sterilization, and contraception from the health plans that they offer to employees and would mandate that every person be forced to buy health plans that include these things. The Obama administration has drastically narrowed what religious organizations would qualify for an exemption. The Obama administration is not satisfied with dismissing religious concerns. It is intent upon suppressing religious freedom. It is not simply about advancing the "pro-choice" agenda. It is about denying choice to any religious organization that attempts to stand in the way of this administration's advancement of intrinsically evil practices.

Pope Benedict XVI went on to say to the US Bishops,

"The seriousness of these threats needs to be clearly appreciated at every level of ecclesial life. Of particular concern are certain attempts being made to limit that most cherished of American freedoms, the freedom of religion. Many of you have pointed out that concerted efforts have been made to deny the right of conscientious objection on the part of Catholic individuals and institutions with regard to cooperation in intrinsically evil practices. Others have spoken to me of a worrying tendency to reduce religious freedom to mere freedom of worship without guarantees of respect for freedom of conscience."

No serious and honest assessment of the current state of Catholics' engagement in the political and cultural spheres of life in the United States could claim that we have been even moderately successful in being serious about the threats that confront what the Holy Father calls, "the grave threats to the Church’s public moral witness presented by a radical secularism which finds increasing expression in the political and cultural spheres." For a very long time, Catholics have gone unchallenged in regards to their political activities. It is as though a decision was made somewhere along the line that we could not challenge the political establishment.

We have not given consistent witness. The University of Notre Dame honors the president whose administration advocates the most radical pro-abortion agenda ever. "Nothing to see here . . . move along." When some bishops, priests, and lay people protested, they were dismissed by many in the higher echelons of power as being cranks. But, the longer we do not give consistent witness, the more irrelevant we will become. If we were preaching the Gospel of Life and bearing consistent witness to it, people would take notice. But, it becomes far more difficult to be convincing if we have persons in all aspects of ecclesial life who give a wink and a nod to Catholic teaching and then actively support those who rabidly oppose those teachings. What that communicates to the world is "there is some piece of paper somewhere that says Catholics believe this, but we really don't care about that issue so much."

In many ways, a perfect storm has developed. We have failed to preach and to teach on serious moral issues to the Catholic Faithful. We have failed to point out clearly that Catholics should be consistent in bearing witness to the Gospel of Life. (No matter how much money somebody donates to the Catholic Church or how much power and influence they wield in the public or private sector, they have the right to be instructed in the Gospel of Life.) Persons in leadership positions in varying ecclesial structures and institutions publicly support political candidates who oppose the Church on its most fundamental moral truths. Is it any wonder that we have ended up where we are?

I cannot attribute motives to anybody else. But, I can attribute motives to myself. As a parish priest, my influence on the larger culture is fairly insignificant. But, I am called to preach the Gospel of Life and to preach about the moral life. What are some of the fears that sometimes arise to the surface when I am preparing to preach on some moral issue:

1. I don't want to be dismissed as a nut. I mean, how many other priests are speaking about contraception or abortion or marriage? Am I going to be dismissed if I preach on this topic?
2. Am I going to lose the good will of my people? They like me. Is this going to turn them away from me?
3. Will this cause the collection to go down?
4. Will this simply be dismissed as a promotion for one political party over another?

I do not know if those fears afflict others. But, sometimes they afflict me. My experience has shown the following:

1. Even if the people might disagree about the issue, they respect that I am preaching what the Gospel teaches. Are some people going to dismiss me? Yes. I'd be in good company.
2. My experience has been that the people know that I love them and my willingness to preach on a difficult topic is an expression of my love for them.
3. No, the collection has never suffered. It has gone up.
4. Some might conclude this. They'd be wrong. But, they could conclude it.

I know that there are those who chomp at the bit to excommunicate half the Catholic population. I cannot be dismissed as holding that opinion. But, I do have some ideas:

1. We could do a much better job preaching about the sanctity of human life, the nature of marriage, and sexual moral issues. Everything the Catholic Church teaches on these matters is so beautiful. Why wouldn't we preach it? Young people are remarkably receptive to the Gospel.
2. We could stop shooting ourselves in the foot by giving prominent positions of prestige and power to those who themselves are on the front lines of advancing an agenda contrary to the Gospel of Life.
3. We could risk a little. Maybe if people saw that we were willing to risk political influence or risk the wrath of some donors, we would be more convincing. And, I'm not suggesting that we pick a fight. I'm just suggesting that we don't cower to the powerful or be so enamored by their influence that we decide to be more low-profile in our witness. Maybe we risk some bad press.

The political calculation of trying to "go along to get along" has proven to be an abysmal failure. Every day that it is allowed to continue hurts the mission of the Church more. I was once at a baseball game and two drunks in the row behind me were bothering a man and his son. Instead of standing up to the bullies, the man kept laughing at their insults and pretending like they were all friends. It was pitiful to witness. Finally, the man who was with me at the game stood up and put a stop to their bullying. He acted like a man. In some ways, the Church has allowed herself to be bullied and has tried to pretend that we can still smile and act as though we are not being bullied. It is pitiful to watch. It would be better to fight and to lose than just to sit there and lose. We cannot say that we haven't given the "sit there and see what happens" model a fair go. It has been tried and found desperately wanting.

Again, I'm not arguing that we go out and look for a fight. But, it seems as though we've allowed ourselves to be bullied out of the public sphere. In some states, we've been bullied out of adoption services and healthcare. They recently bullied Catholics from their work with the victims of Human Trafficking because we won't promote the Obama Administration's obsession with abortion. Now, we are being bullied into violating our consciences. The goal seems clear: Bully the Church out of everything. In the schoolyard, we can't help it if somebody tries to bully us. But we are electing and funding our bullies. You cannot serve two masters.

We should engage the culture and explain why we oppose being bullied into immorality. And we should engage Catholics and explain why supporting the people who bully us really isn't such a great idea. This is not a call to be aggressive or inflammatory. It is a call to engage in a reasonable exhange. Evangelizing the culture sometimes means taking the risk of being unpopular. I bet Jesus would reward us handsomely for taking such a risk.

Being A Priest Is Awesome

2012-01-19T19:45:00.000-05:00

A few years ago, we painted the interior of one of the churches of which I am pastor. The entire church was filled with scaffolding and I spent lots of times crawling over every inch of the church. The project (including a restoration of the Hook and Hastings pipe organ) went flawlessly and the results are definitely pleasing to the eye and to the ear. Being part of such a grand project was definitely a very cool experience and there is something very satisfying in seeing (and hearing) the finished product.

When you look at that particular church building, you cannot help but be overwhelmed by its beauty. Sometimes, I think about the pastor who built it and how blessed he was to be part of building something so magnificent. Just the other day, I visited a parish (St. Patrick's in Stoneham, MA) where the pastor oversaw a huge renovation of his church and built a parish center attached to it. I remember thinking, "He ought to be really proud of the work he did here."

But, as interesting and important as these types of projects are, they are not at the heart of being a parish priest. Honestly, I rarely walk into my parish church and think, "We did a good job painting this" or, "The restoration of the pipe organ sure sounds great." I suspect that the pastor of St. Patrick's in Stoneham probably doesn't marvel every day about the great job he did. What he probably does marvel at is what a gift he's been given in being a priest.

What I most love about my parish churches are the people who fill the pews. There are events in the life of a parish priest that are way beyond cool. They are awesome. Preaching the Gospel . . . awesome. Absolving sinners . . . awesome. Offering Mass . . . awesome. Seeing a new face at Mass . . .awesome. When Jesus uses me as the instrument of drawing somebody closer to Him . . . totally awesome. Carrying the Gospel into the life of someone who is enslaved or burdened and seeing the Gospel set them free . . . what can be better than that? There is nothing more important in the world than Jesus Christ. And we priests are totally set aside to be instruments of Christ. How awesome is that?!

There's something that has happened to me many times in my life as a priest. In fact, it happens quite regularly. Sometimes it happens after hearing a confession or after having a conversation with somebody about a particularly difficult moral problem or life situation. It happens after being with somebody as they are dying. It happens when a young person who is confused about life and is searching for meaning seeks me out. It happens whenever I am used as an instrument that brings somebody closer to Christ. It is the experience of thinking, "If that were the only thing I was ever ordained for, it would be enough." I don't know if lots of people have that experience on a regular basis, but I bet most priests do. It is a recognition that this one occasion of being an instrument of Christ is sufficient to give meaning to all of my life.

Building, painting, organizing, serving on committees, titles etc . . . all of these things are fine. But, what trumps it all is that we have been entrusted with the very Gospel of Jesus Christ; the Gospel that brings salvation.

Being a priest is about Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ is awesome. Being a priest is awesome.

Attached to Communion of Mind and Heart

2012-01-19T00:28:00.000-05:00

Today I visited with some wonderful parishioners and they played for me a CD of King's College Choir singing Anglican chant. The text of one of the psalms really struck me as particularly beautiful. Psalm 122 describes the joy of going up to the temple and the peace of being in the temple. This particular psalm occurs frequently in the Liturgy of the Hours and in the readings of various feasts. What most struck me is verse three.

In the Liturgy of the Hours, I recall that the translations says, "Jerusalem is built as a city, strongly compact." When it appears in the readings of Mass, I believe it is translated, "Jerusalem, built as a city, walled round about." The translation in this particular chant--which I presume is drawn from some poetic Anglican translation of the psalms--says, "Jerusalem is built as a city that is at unity in itself." This image of the temple which is fulfilled in the person of Jesus Christ and his body, the Church provides good meat for mediation, especially during this Week of Christian Unity.

In a particular way, I look at those words in terms of parish life. A forceful temptation arises within Christian communities whereby people are lured into attaching their hearts to particular programs, ideologies, or ways of doing things. These attachments never bring joy or peace because they create within persons a fear of losing them. I think of this as the Archdiocese of Boston prepares to begin implementing a new pastoral plan. This will inevitably mean that certain aspects of parishes will change. Mass times will change, programs will change, locations will change. Thus, if we expect these things to bring peace and joy, we will likely be disappointed.

Our attachment ought to be to our unity in Christ. The temple brings such peace and joy because the tribes are together within it. It brings peace and joy because of its unity. As Catholics, we should rejoice when we go to the house of the Lord because it is in his house--the Church--that we are united in him. We are members of his body and are drawn up into the love of the Blessed Trinity. Through the Eucharist and the other sacraments, we are built up into a city that is at unity in itself. It is to this that we ought to be attached. It is this that brings peace and joy.

My very happy experience has been that in parishes where attachment to unity in Christ is proposed and lived, the joy and peace that are met become nearly irresistible. Jesus sent the disciples out two by two and gave them a long list of what not to bring with them. Their success was going to be found in their communion of life. He did not want them attaching undue importance to what was transitory. Their unity in Christ would be sufficient for the mission entrusted to them.

In the Acts of the Apostles we read that the community of believers was of one mind and one heart. These words for me are not a fairytale description of a long gone era. They continue to be fulfilled in the life of the Church today. Substituting other things (no matter how good they might be) in place of communion of heart and mind will never work. They will always lead to dissension, rebellion, and bitterness. Those who give themselves over to obeying the grace of unity do not find such obedience oppressive or suffocating. No, when we take courage and go into the house of the Lord, obediently following the hierarchical communion of the Church, we discover that she has been built as a city that is at unity in itself. For those of us living this unity, we can truly say, "I rejoiced when they said unto me, 'Let us go up to the House of the Lord."

Remembering A Faithful Priest

2012-01-17T23:04:00.001-05:00

Maryknoll Seminary. In it's prime, thousands of young seminarians would have studied here and been ordained as missionary priests, serving throughout the world.

A few months ago, a family from my first parish came to visit me. By family, I mean two sisters and their brother. All of whom are in the 80's and 90's. Their other brother was a Maryknoll priest with whom I lived during my first assignment as a priest. He had retired by that point in time, but did a lot of work in our parish (where he had grown up and where his family still lives). The reason for their visit was that they wanted to give to me the Mission Cross that was given to Fr. Lawrence Burns before he left for Bolivia in the 1940's.

Fr. Lawrence Burns was a great priest. I only knew him long after he had retired from his missionary work. But, for decades, he served in Bolivia. In fact, he was the longtime Apostolic Administrator for a diocese there. I remember he used to say how when he got to Bolivia he didn't speak much Spanish. They gave him a small boat and told him that he would ride the rivers and just stop at villages along the way. He said, "I told them that my Spanish wasn't good". They replied, "Don't worry. You will pick it up as you go along." He said, "I asked them what I would do for food." They replied, "The people will feed you as you go from place to place." He said, "I asked them what should I do if I get sick." They replied, "Whatever you do, don't get sick."

Every day that I lived with Larry, he would spend an hour in the Blessed Sacrament Chapel. He was always on his knees praying the Rosary. He loved the Blessed Virgin Mary. I often went to confession to him and he never failed to speak of the Blessed Virgin. He was a great priest.

Towards the end of his life, he had an extended hospital stay. When he was released from the hospital, his doctor ordered him to stay home and rest. On his way out of the hospital, Larry ran into a parishioner who mentioned that a family member was in the hospital and would love to receive the Eucharist. Immediately after being dropped off at the rectory by a family member, Larry got the Blessed Sacrament and went back to the hospital. The only way we know that story is because he got caught by his doctor as he was coming off the elevator. He was a priest who loved the Eucharist. He was a great priest.

In the last days of his life, I had the opportunity to spend time at his bedside. We'd pray the Rosary. Several times, his sisters and brother were there too. As they prayed the Rosary together, it was obvious that this was something they did often. All in their eighties at the time, I could nonentheless see them as young siblings in their family home praying the Rosary. I could see their parents (whom I never met) raising these fine people in the Catholic Faith.

Sometimes when Larry and I would be praying the Rosary in his last days, he would fade in and out of consciousness. He'd say four Hail Marys in the decade or he'd jumble the Our Father and Hail Mary together. I just ignored that. When we finished the Rosary, I was sitting there in silence and he opened his eyes and with a big smile said, "Boy, I think I made a mess out of that Rosary."

On one of the last days I visited him, he opened his eyes from an unconcious state and I smiled and said, "Hey Larry." He didn't even acknolwedge me. I think he knew that he kept passing in and out of conciousness and didn't want to waste any time. He immediately asked, "Did you bring the Eucharist with you?" I had brought the Eucharist with me and he received with such serentity and joy. He received as one whose sole desire was to be close to Christ.

I was very touched when his family--a decade later--came to give me his Mission Cross. That cross reminds me of a great priest. But, it also reminds me of how personal holiness in the life of the priest is so important. The memory of Fr. Lawrence Burns' holy life, pastoral zeal, and fatherly example continues to call me to be a better priest. The example of holy priests are not only important for the parishioners. Priests who are holy encourage their brother priests to be holy as well. A decade later, one priest's holy example still encourages me. And, I hope it now encourages someone else.

What Is Shared Between Shepherds

2012-01-15T12:53:00.000-05:00

When a priest is ordained to the priesthood, he is configured to Christ in a new way. Through the Sacrament of Holy Orders, he is united to Christ as Head and Shepherd of the Church. At the same time, the individual priest is also called to become more conformed to Christ. Through our prayer, devotion, and way of living, we are always to strive to become ever more like Christ, the Good Shepherd. Our way of life is to make Christ, the Good Shepherd present in the midst of the flock entrusted to our care. The priest exists so that the people of today can encounter the Good Shepherd. The more the priest places his head upon the heart of the Good Shepherd and explores the depths of that heart, the better able he is to make visible the presence of the Good Shepherd.

One of the unexpected benefits I have gained from blogging about the priesthood is a renewed appreciation for the solitude of priesthood. Yes, I can blog about evangelization, confession, the Mass, Religious Education, parish finances, the scriptures etc. And all of those things are part of parish priesthood and are wonderful. But, the best blogposts about my experience of priesthood are the ones that I can never write. They are encounters between this shepherd and the flock entrusted to his care and they concern the way in which this shepherd knows his sheep.

Sometimes, the things that most move me as a priest are the subtle gestures that would go entirely unnoticed by others. It is the squeeze of a hand coming out of Mass which communicates only to me, "Father, things are still difficult, but I'm trying to do better. Thanks for your help." It is the heart-wrenching confession when somebody lays bare their wounds and asks for mercy. It is living in the midst of a people who have revealed to you all manner of weakness and sin and bearing witness to them that the Good Shepherd loves the wounded sheep. It is when a young person who is not particularly near to the Faith strikes up an awkward conversation with me. The subtext being, "I need something more in my life. Will you help me?" As often as they happen, they still surprise me. In these ways, a shepherd comes to know his sheep and the sheep come to know not just the shepherd in their midst. They come to know the Good Shepherd.

Part of the reason I began this blog is so that I could convey something of what it is like to be a parish priest; in some way to convey what is in the heart of this priest. But, there are many gestures, conversations, and moments of grace that will never make it to the blogosphere or even to private conversations. Certainly they can be spoken of in generalized ways, but in their specificity, they belong to the intimate prayer of the shepherd with The Shepherd. Not only do these encounters stir up in my heart a profound gratitude to Christ, but they also become the subject of pastoral growth. I turn to the Good Shepherd and beg Him to teach me how to be a good shepherd to these persons. They are not recorded on a blog, but are etched into the heart of the priest and visible only to Christ.

There are other professions that guard secrets. But, at some point, the case file or the medical record is sealed, destroyed, or put into a cabinet. But the knowledge that the priest has of his flock is brought to and entrusted to Christ. These events do not terminate in some sealed envelope or even in the priest's grave. They terminates in the eternal heart of Christ. Even if over time the details are forgotten by the priest, they somehow shape his bond with Christ. They are included in every Mass he offers. They are continuously offered to Christ.

There is definitely a suffering that comes with this. But, it is not what most people would expect. Often people ask if hearing about particular sins or not being able to talk about what you heard is a suffering. I have not found that ever to be the case. The suffering that I find in this exchange is probably what John Vianney meant when he said, "Were we fully to understand what a priest is on earth, we would die: not of fright but of love." These exchanges between a priest and his people deepen the priest's understanding of what Christ has entrusted to him. He comes to know more and more what it truly means to be united to the Good Shepherd. And in this experience, the priest's heart is filled with a love that is far beyond his natural capacity. Pastoral charity brings with it pastoral suffering. But, this suffering is not something one would ever want to avoid. It is the suffering of knowing that God has poured into our heart what we could never claim rightfully as our own. The more a priest grows in the virtue of pastoral charity, the more he loves with the love of Christ. The more we love with the love of Christ, the more we do what is far beyond our natural capacity. It is this supernatural love poured into our hearts that overwhelms us and little by little brings us to the joyful death of union with the Good Shepherd, a death whereby we can claim with St. Paul, "It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me."

A Hole in the Church Roof

2012-01-13T11:45:00.000-05:00

In the Gospel today, we heard the account of the four men who carried their neighbor to Jesus on a stretcher. He was paralyzed and could not get himself to where Jesus was. But, because of their intercession, that man encountered Christ and not only was freed from his paralysis, but also from his sins.

Those four men are a model for us Catholics. They did not allow the paralysis to keep that man from Christ. They identified the obstacle and then made it possible for him to go to Jesus. In every parish, there are persons who are not able to approach the sacraments or who are not able to approach Jesus. Some are hindered by physical limitations. They are in nursing homes or are home bound. Some are not able to approach the Sacraments because of their marital situation. Some are not able to approach Jesus because they are paralyzed by fear, by the memory of some grievous sin, by laziness, by anger, by stubbornness, by resentment, by pride, by addiction, by enslavement to the flesh, by procrastination, or by a thousand other afflictions.

Those who are ill and unable to come to Mass are provided a beautiful gift of being able to receive the Eucharist at home through the visits of priests, deacons, and Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion. We recognize what hinders them and then we--like the four men in the Gospel--find a way to bring them to Jesus. It would perhaps be helpful for us to think about those who are paralyzed by other afflictions (like the ones mentioned above) as also being infirm. We can be tempted to grow angry with those who don't go to church. But, perhaps we should be more like the four men in the gospel who identify the affliction and then figure out how a way to help the afflicted.

It would have served no purpose if the four men in the gospel stood in front of the paralytic and cajoled him to get up and go to Jesus. He needed help. He needed friendship. Similarly, we need to make it as easy as possible for our brothers and sisters to get to Jesus. To be clear, this can never mean watering down the Gospel or calling good evil and evil good. When the paralytic did get to Jesus, he needed to have his sins forgiven. Jesus didn't say to him, "You are perfect just the way you are." Jesus had mercy on the man. Similarly, our goal is to get others to Christ so that they can receive his mercy. But, we ought to make getting them to Jesus as easy as possible.

In parishes, we ought to think about who isn't here and then ask ourselves how to make it easy for them to return. We have to be thoughtful and patient about it. If a person, for instance, is angry, then telling her that she is stupid is probably not going to help her get to Jesus. If a person is trapped in some sort of sinful sexual lifestyle, perhaps showing him true friendship will yield better results than drawing a line in the sand. Perhaps when he sees what true love is--when he is brought to Jesus--he will forgo his sinful ways. In fact, in all of these examples, what is most needed is the friendship of the Church.

In some way, all of us are on the stretcher and all of us are carrying the stretcher. All of us are hindered in some way or another from fully going to Christ. And, all of us as Catholics are called to help others to find their way to Christ and to receive his loving mercy.

I have eight buildings for which I am responsible. That's a lot of roof space! The very thought of the men in today's gospel cutting a hole in the roof makes me tremble. But, it's good to think about what I am willing to do and what I am willing to sacrifice to help others get to Christ. Are we ready to tear the roof off if necessary?

The New Evangelization: Charging Ahead Patiently

2012-01-12T10:57:00.002-05:00

Probably like a lot of folks, I sometimes regret that a great many things about the culture are worse now than they were before. Some are the kind of mundane things that aren't earth-shattering. For instance, when I was younger, my mother would take my brothers and I everywhere via mass transportation. And, the rule we learned was simple: If there were a woman or an elderly person without a seat, we gave up our seat. Basically, my brothers and I never never sat down. Men didn't wear hats indoors . . . ever. Gentlemen hold doors open and let others go in first.

Then, there are the more notable declines. Mass attendance is down. Catholic schools that once had long waiting lists are closing. Basic catechetical knowledge of the Faith is sorely lacking. I notice it in little ways. For instance, in the old days, if somebody said, "Eternal rest grant unto him O Lord," a chorus would respond, "and let perpetual light shine upon him." Now, when I say that prayer at a graveside, almost nobody answers; just a little sign that there's a decline.

I was really blessed when I was growing up that the Catholic school that I attended, Sacred Heart in North Quincy, Massachusetts was really solid in its Catholic identity. Most families who attended the school also attended Mass. We were taught primarily by Sisters of St. Joseph who were definitely of the old school. They had names like Honorius, Benignus, Jude, Conan, Eustolia, Longinus, Romula, Rosamond, Georgita, and others. With names like that, you were guaranteed that you were not getting "Catholic Lite."

But, most of my generation of Catholics were probably already suffering from a deficiency of good Catholic teaching. And then, my generation began to teach what we didn't know to a new generation. Our generation--who didn't know much--was put in charge of teaching others. And so, that new generation knows even less. It goes to show, that it doesn't take too long before what took generations to build is reduced beyond recognition.

When I first became a priest and would hear confessions of young children, I'd feel awful for them. They'd come in and it was fairly obvious that they had no idea what to do. And I'd have to begin the long process of trying to extract from them some sort of mention of a particular sin. I'd ask, "So, what do you want to confess?" They'd look puzzled. I'd say, "What do you want to tell God you are sorry for?" They'd stare or perhaps shrug their shoulders. Eventually, after I had worked long and hard to help them make some sort of confession, I'd have to ask before I assigned a penance, "Do you know the Hail Mary? No? Okay, how about the Our Father? No? Okay . . . don't worry. That's okay."

The staff at our parish school and the staff of our religious education program have done a remarkable job preparing our young people to receive the Sacrament of Penance--which they receive on a regular basis. The students come in, begin their confession, articulate their sins with clarity and with a recognition of what sin actually is, and they express contrition. I've been struck as time has passed by, how well-prepared they are. Last year, a priest was assigned to our parish and I am always happy when he comments on something that he's noticed. Recently, he commented how well-prepared all of the children are when they come to confession. That delighted me. It confirms for me that the hard work that these teachers have done is working.

I recently received a note from my Religious Education Director in which she expressed her delight that she too is seeing the hard work pay off. The men and women who teach in her program are people who themselves are trying to grow in the Faith and are constantly seeking to be educated in the Faith. This makes a huge difference. They confront a very difficult situation. Many of their students come to class, but they never go to Mass. Perhaps the only time some of them hear about the Faith is for that hour in their classroom. That can be daunting. And yet, these folks love the Faith and these children so much that they are willing to keep working at it.

Many of the teachers that my DRE mentioned are folks who themselves have taken classes to advance their own learning or who read voraciously about the Faith. They are people who attend daily Mass or who come to adoration. The DRE has done a great job by creating a community among the teachers. They are not individuals who are dropped into a room one hour a week and expected to keep the kids entertained. They are a community of teachers who are missioned together. And, they are doing a great job.

One thing has become clear to me. All of this takes patience and hard work. The tide is certainly against us. We cannot presume a basic knowledge of the Faith and we have to avoid the temptations of growing angry or impatient about that. I remember the nuns I had in school and how silly I thought so many of their rules were or their making us practice genuflecting repeatedly or forcing us to make the Sign of the Cross just right. But, these little things built a foundation upon which others could build more substantially later. By introducing us to the basics, they made us part of the Catholic culture. They made us capable of feeling at home in a church. We knew to bless ourselves with holy water, to genuflect, to say, "Good Morning Father." We would always know that if we ever were in dire need of spiritual help, we could always go into a confessional and say, "Bless me Father for I have sinned."

The challenges are great. In many ways, Religious Education of young people today is not directed at building upon the foundation that was laid by another. Today, Religious Education is about building the foundation. Is this hard work? Absolutely. Do I wish that I could go back in time and be part of a different type of evangelization? Not for a second. Christ has called us to bear witness to Him to the people of today--in the present moment, in their circumstances, in their particular culture. It's totally awesome to think that Christ loves us so much and trusts us so much that He has given us this charge. We are so blessed to be part of the New Evangelization.

A Full House of Vocations . . . But Not Full Enough

2012-01-10T10:33:00.001-05:00

There are certain things in life that you realize are gifts that you can only appreciate. They cannot be frozen in time nor is there some sort of formula that can be devised that will replicate these gifts. You can only stand in gratitude to God for what He has given and enjoy it.

One such gift in my life is the great fraternity of priests and seminarians that God has blessed my parish with during these past years. During the Christmas Season, my rectory welcomed at different moments Fr. Daniel Hennessey, Fr. Kwang Lee, seminarians Brian Cullen, Craig Cooley, Tom Lyman, and David Heighington. I think the average age of those living in the rectory during the Christmas Season was around 32. Additionally, I think of Fr. Andreas Davison, Fr. Mark Barr, and Fr. Tamiru Atraga—all of whom lived at St. Mary’s while they were in seminary and Fr. Reed Mungovan who was ordained from here a few years ago. Additionally, during the Christmas Season I was in contact with Tom Gignac who is another seminarian from St. Mary’s and Brother Sebastian White, OP and Brother John Howell O.Carm both of whom were parishioners here and now are in religious life. And, of course, a very joyful part of this fraternity is Fr. Ixon Chateau, the parochial vicar here. As I am writing about the seminarians and priests who call our rectory home or whose vocations were born or nourished in our parish, it is great that I have to keep asking myself, “Did I forget anyone?”

As a pastor, it is a great joy for me to see so many young priests and seminarians gathered in our home. I love the fact that this Christmas season I had to think about how I was going to fit all of our priest and seminarian guests in the rectory. What a great problem that is! I love when I come into the rectory and the parish secretary tells me that some priest guest has arrived unexpectedly. I love to walk into the rectory kitchen and find a couple of seminarians stuffing their faces and talking to one of the high school kids who works at the rectory. I love that the young men and boys of our parish not only know what the definition of a seminarian is, but they actually know real seminarians. They have seen men ordained priests. They have built friendships with these men.

It is so great for the people here to encounter so many young priests and seminarians who are joyful and serious in their vocation. The parishioners must see in these young men a great sign of hope for the future.

At almost every Mass I offer, I pray that God will continue to raise up priestly vocations from our parishes and from the families in our parishes. God has granted a positive response to this petition in the past and I hope that he will continue to do so. Priestly vocations in a parish are a significant indicator of a parish’s spiritual health. I know that priestly vocations are a serious matter and should not be taken lightly. So, I say this partly in jest: If you have ever played a game with me, you know that I am a little bit competitive. Now that God has blessed the Church in Beverly with so many priestly vocations, I want even more.

Certainly, a priestly vocation is a gift given by Christ, so none of us can claim credit for it. But, we can certainly do something to help. I am convinced that those who pray for priestly vocations—especially at Eucharist Adoration—are doing something very powerful. We can encourage young men to think about the priesthood. We can encourage the seminarians that are from our parish, assigned to our parish, or who call our parish home. We can send cards to them at the seminary to thank them and encourage them. (Getting mail in the seminary is awesome!)

Recently, a seminarian told me that after he entered into the seminary, many people said to him, “I always thought you’d be a good priest.” Why didn’t they tell him that before??? If you know somebody who you think would be a good priest, tell him. Maybe he is already thinking about it and just needs a little word of encouragement.

It’s true that all of these vocations are God’s grace and there’s no formula that guarantees similar results. BUT, we can certainly cooperate with God’s grace. I'm very grateful for what God has done and I know that HE is the one who has done it. BUT, that competitive side of me . . . still wants more.

Epiphany

2012-01-08T15:49:00.000-05:00

I was on vacation this past week. One evening I was sitting at a restaurant and at the next table were a group of young people, maybe early 20's. They were extraordinarily drunk and looked as though they had been that way for several days and were likely to remain that way for days to come. This wasn't, as best I could tell, a momentary lapse in their otherwise moderate life. It seemed as though this was their life. And, they definitely seemed to be enjoying this life. I mention all of this, not to sit in judgment of these persons, but because seeing them actually helped me to think about the Feast of the Epiphany that we celebrate today.

Sometimes, when we see somebody living in a manner that lacks virtue or is excessive in some way or another, we ask, "But is he really happy?" I concluded that if they were confronted about their drunkenness, their promiscuity, and their very public display of hedonism and then were asked, "But are you really happy?", they would emphatically answer, "YES!" These people were not sitting around thinking to themselves, "Well, deep down I'm really unhappy." None of us really understands how unhappy we are until we find true happiness in Christ. And that recognition only comes to us through a grace given by God.

In the Gospel of Epiphany, we are provided with a contrast. We have the Three Magi and we have King Herod. The Magi are given a sign in the star. They see this sign because they were looking up. They obey this sign. Herod too was given gifts. He had the Magi arrive at his doorstep. He had the scribes and scholars to tell him where the Christ was to be born. And, presumably if the star was visible to the Magi, it must also have been visible to Herod. But, he did not see it because he could not look up.

Herod's palace must have seemed like the place to be. The powerful and politically important were there. It probably housed not only political power but also illicit pleasures. Perhaps it was the house of lavish parties, excessive behaviors, and egotistical idolatry. Maybe those who passed by the palace walls could hear the sounds from inside and wished that they too could be part of that happy life.

But Herod's house had become his tomb. When the Magi heard that Christ was to be born in Bethlehem, they left Herod's palace. When Herod heard that Christ was to be born in Bethlehem, he remained in his palace. The more one gives himself over to darkness and to the passing things of this world, the more imprisoned one becomes by those things. St. Matthew tells us very matter of factually that "after Herod died," Joseph took Mary and the child and came to Nazareth. All of a sudden, Herod who was so powerful, who could orchestrate and order murderous plots . . . he becomes a passing line, "After Herod died . . . ." Herod sought his happiness in transitory things. Those transitory things were one shovel of dirt after another, sealing him in from ever discovering true happiness.

On the other hand, the Magi go out and follow the light that they have been given. They come to the manger and discover there what Herod would never discover. The Magi encounter Eternal Love. They encounter what will never pass away. They find God.

The Prophet Isaiah says, "Look up." This is all we can do as Christians. We can live our lives looking up. I remember when I was in high school, sometimes some friends and I would goof around by standing on a street corner looking up. Sooner or later, other people would start looking up. Christians look up and hope that others will join them. We cannot force others to look up and see the light. And, even if they've seen the light, we cannot force them to follow. All we can do is bear faithful witness to the light that we've been given.

I hope that those young people look up soon. Because whoever follows the light of Faith will come face to face with eternal love. Herod buried himself in passing things until he himself passed along with them. The Magi followed the light and passed into the presence of Eternal Love.

Fire! Get Out of the House

2011-12-27T04:23:00.001-05:00

I usually don't sleep all that well the night before I leave for a flight. Packing, last minute details, a flurry of emails to rectory staff members about any number of things (usually things that they know already and will cause them to shake their heads when they read them), and my fear of oversleeping, all cause me to have a restless night before the early morning pick-up for the airport. But not last night. Last night, as I was finishing my last minute details, I knew that I was so tired from all of the Christmas events, that I would sleep quickly and deeply.

When my alarm went off at 4am, it did so with greater gusto than usual. (I'm a light sleeper, so a gentle alarm always does the trick and is shut off almost before it goes off.) This morning it attacked my nervous system. "I can't believe it is already 4am," my mind protested. Then, the fog wore off, but the alarm didn't shut off. It wasn't 4am, it was 2am. It was not the alarm that announces a new day. It was the alarm of danger. The fire alarms were blaring.

As I moved from my room to the hallway, I doubted. "Is that really smoke that I smell?" Something in me--maybe in everybody--wants to believe that it is an overreaction. Calm down. It's probably a mechanical malfunction of the alarm. I ran down the flight of stairs to see if it was really smoke. Thicker and thicker the smoke became. This was not an alarm malfunction. There was a fire.

As I ran back up the stairs, (the rectory is a massive building) I remembered one of the seminarians staying here last night told me "I can sleep through anything." I also thought of the priest with whom I live and how he too is a sound sleeper. "Get out of the house! Get out of the house! There's something burning" I yelled.

Picking up the phone to call 911 always feels like you are making the decision to authorize the release of nuclear weapons. Once you make that call, they're coming. There's no turning back. There's this lingering doubt that maybe you should do a few more things before calling. Truth to be told, I opened the cellar door to see if that stuff filling the air and making it hard to breathe was really smoke. "Yes, that's smoke."

With the sounds of fire alarms in the background, the police dispatcher asked his calm question, "What is your emergency?" To which I replied, "This is Father Barnes. The rectory fire alarms are sounding and the house is filling with smoke." He asked me about other people in the house. Even though that is what he is trained to ask, for some reason, that question consoled me. I''m in a house filled with smoke and the noise of the alarms makes it difficult to think clearly. But, there's somebody on the other end of the line who is thinking clearly. "Yes, everybody is out," I said. "I'm contacting the fire department, Father. We are on our way."

As Fr. Chateau, Brian (the seminarian), Finbar (the rectory dog), and I stood outside freezing, the police and fire department arrived. Thankfully, it was determined that the smoke that was filling the rectory was not the result of a raging fire, but of a furnace issue. The fire department opened windows, set up fans, and cleared the rectory of smoke. It's 3:30am now and the furnace repair man is here. So, why bother telling all of this?

I might as well do something. I have to be awake in 30 minutes and there's no point in going back to sleep now. And, it's a pretty good story. But there are some other reasons.

After the fire department arrived and while Fr. Chateau, Brian, and the hound were standing out front, I was in the alley way between the church and the rectory. And, despite the fact that all danger was now ruled out, I thought about what could have been. And I thought how as I was yelling for people to get out of the house, Fr. Chateau was knocking on Brian's door to alert him. I thought about how blessed I am. And, I thought about how I love all of these people. In fact, as I stood outside, it wasn't just the folks that were in the house that came to mind. I felt like everybody in the parish was in that house. I don't know if that makes any sense or not. But, I realized--yet again--how much I love the people here.

I know it turned out that it was not a life and death situation, but, in those few moments, it had all of the appearances of life and death. Seeing Brian, Fr. Chateau, and the hound all outside safely, put into my heart a great love for them and a great love for everyone else in the parish.

When I picked up the phone to call 911, I didn't feel like I was calling a stranger. I am grateful and proud to say that I am a friend to the Beverly Police Department and to the Beverly Fire Department. Calling them is like calling a friend and asking for help. As a parish priest, I have a relationship not only with the parishioners, but also with the civil authorities. As I was standing outside with flashing blue and red lights all around me, I thought about how I love these guys too. Most of them are not my parishioners. But, I'm still their priest. And I'm glad for that.

Time to get ready to go to the airport. If I had any doubt as to whether I could use a bit of a vacation, I'm fairly convinced now. I leave, however, more grateful for the great people that God has put into my life. I love being a priest.

Longfellow, Roasts, and Emergency Rooms: The Incarnation

2011-12-25T22:29:00.003-05:00

Eating Christmas Eve Dinner and Christmas Day Dinner with great parish families, brother priests and seminarians.

A little boy who offered to give up his seat at the crowded 4pm Mass if there were any elderly folks standing who needed a seat.

The police car that rolled down its windows as it drove by church on Christmas morning and the cops who yelled, "Merry Christmas, Father."

The cop who texted me to wish me a Merry Christmas. And the fisherman who did the same.

Our beautiful church bells and Longfellow's, "I heard the Bells on Christmas Day."

A very beautiful church with a very beautiful manger scene.

Pipe Organ and choirs.

The way that people love the priests and seminarians here and all the people who tell me how much they love those priests and seminarians.

The priests and seminarians who were here.

Standing on the front steps of the church and watching the throngs of people arrive for Mass.

A woman in her 90's who had a very bad fall during the 10:30 Christmas Day Mass and was taken to the hospital. A couple of hours later, one of the seminarians and I went to the Emergency Room to visit her. She was in a lot of pain and was somewhat confused. Her two sons stood by her bedside. After I prayed with her, I commented that she has a very beautiful faith. She took hold of my hand and said, "Father, I just love God and the Blessed Mother so much. They've been so good to me and I don't know what I'd ever do if I didn't have them."

For me, all of these events and persons--and many others--testified to the most beautiful of truths. The Word was made flesh and dwells among us.

The Trust that Brings Me Joy

2011-12-23T15:53:00.000-05:00

The other day, as I was standing in the back of church, a parishioner came up to me and handed me an envelope and she said, "Father, same thing as last year." And by this, she meant that she and her family have decided that instead of exchanging gifts this year, they would all make some donation to the needy. There are a few other individuals who do the same thing. They hand me some money and they say, "Father, please give this to somebody who needs it." Besides the joy that comes from witnessing the generosity of these individuals, this occurance brings me joy for another reason. It sheds light on the life of a priest and how the Faithful look at the priest.

Firstly, they simply trust me with their money. They hand over to me some gift and will never question what has happened to it. They could easily donate the money to an organization. Instead, they hand me money and trust that it will go to the poor. There is something beautiful about that trust.

Secondly, it brings me joy because these persons trust that the priest knows the flock entrusted to his care. He knows the needs of particular persons. They trust that the priest has such an intimate bond with his people, that he can easily identify who is need of assistance. (Unfortunately, we are all too aware of the great need that is out there). The Catholic people sense that the parish priest encounters the poor, the broken, and the needy on a regular basis. There is something beautiful about that.

Thirdly, it brings me joy to mediate this charity in the name of the Church. The recipients never know the givers and the givers never know of the recipients. It is all mediated through the priest. All the recipients ever know is that they were helped by "the Church."

Lastly, I realized that part of the joy of this process involves the fact that people know that the priest lives a life of guarding the secrets of others. What do I mean by that? I mean that the world will never know who those donors are. The only man who knows is me. And, I carry with me a knowledge of the great sorrows and needs of many souls. The Catholic Faithful understand that the priest knows more than what he speaks. Today, as I was sitting in the parking lot of a store, a young mother and her son got out of their car, waved with big smiles, and said "Hi Father Barnes." The little boy's face lighted up in awe. I think he was fascinated that he saw a priest someplace other than at the church or school. I smiled and waved back.

What they didn't know was that I was on the phone trying to contact a family whose situation is desperate and tragic. And yet, in some way, the Catholic people do know and love that much of what the parish priest does is hidden from the eyes of the world. And, even if he writes a blog, the blog never comes close to revealing the magnificent moments, encounters, and confidences that fill much of the priest's life. Catholics have Faith that God has placed the most important realities into the hands of priests. He has entrusted his Word, the Body and Blood, the Keys, and the flock into the hands of priests. This Faith enables Catholics to place into the hands of the priest their confidence. This trust should make all of us joyful.

To The God Who Gives Joy to My Youth

2011-12-22T10:46:00.000-05:00

My parents happen to live in proximity to a couple of parishes where newly ordained priests were recently assigned. This morning, as I was talking to my mother she relayed to me two conversations that she had with parishioners from each of those parishes. In both instances, the parisioners expressed how much they love their new priests.

I know both of the priests in question and when I think about each of them, two common attributes come to mind. They are men who are serious and joyful. I suspect that these two qualities are, in part, what endears them to their parishioners.

Without seriousness, the priest can be given over to being an entertainer or someone who only says things that win easy approval. Without seriousness, the liturgy often devolves into silliness and preaching becomes a stand-up comedy act. Without seriousness, the sacraments aren't loved and the Gospel isn't preached. Without seriousness, the priest is more concerned about his day off than about his days on.

Without joy, preaching becomes moralism, the liturgy becomes oppressive, and the priest becomes aloof to his parishioners. Without joy, the parishioners sense that the priest doesn't care about them. Like a lack of seriousness, a lack of joy leads to laziness about the pastoral life. Without joy, the priest becomes an obstacle to evangelization, no matter how articulate he might be.

The two new and young priests that I mentioned above are serious about their vocation. They are serious about faithfully communicating the Gospel and devoutly celebrating the Sacred Mysteries. Their seriousness is not a lack of humanity. It is just the opposite. Their seriousness shows them to be true men, faithful spouses to the Church, and good spiritual fathers.

These two priests are joyful in their vocation. Whether it is in the pulpit or in the school yard, they convey an abiding joy in their apostolic mission. When people encounter them, they think, "I want what they have." Their joy conveys the fuller humanity that is possible when one gives himself over to the Christian life.

When the shepherd is serious, the people know he has the courage to lay down his life for the sheep. When the shepherd is joyful, the people know he has the love to lay down his life for the sheep. As I think of these two new priests, I think also of a much older priest, Pope Benedict XVI. Do we not see in him these very traits of seriousness and joy?

Why blog about such a thing today? Well, when I spoke to my mother this morning and she relayed the comments made by her friends about these two priests, she said to me, "You know, it is so nice to hear people say such good things about their priests." And, when I hung up the phone, I realized that hearing that these two good priests are out there doing such good work made me happy.

The Gospel of Christ is serious and joyful. And the Archdiocese of Boston and those two parishes are blessed to have these two serious and joyful priests bearing faithful witness to that Gospel. Good news is worth sharing and the work of these two good priests is definitely good news.

We Are The Bells of Christmas Day

2011-12-21T09:53:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, after making some communion calls, I answered the rectory door and found a middle-aged woman standing before me. She whispered, "Can you talk to me?" We went into the parlor and in an almost inaudible whisper and with an ashamed look, she explained that she needed just enough money to wash her clothes and a couple of other items. A few hours later, I was with two teenage boys at their father's casket. He died suddenly and tragically. In a few hours, we will offer his funeral Mass.

In both of the instances above--and in countless others--I experience my own incapacity to solve the problems that confront the people whom I meet. For some, I can provide some temporary relief. For others, perhaps some word of encouragement or consolation. But, I do not possess an endless supply of money to help those who are poor and I do not possess the power to make sense of a senseless death.

At the Midnight Mass on Christmas, the words of Isaiah will announce that it is to the people who dwell in darkness and the land of gloom that a light has shone. This year, when I place the Christ Child in the manger at Midnight Mass, I will be thinking about these persons who dwell in the land of darkness. I will be thinking of them and many others--known to me and unknown to me. People suffering from depression and addiction; abandoned spouses and children who feel they are at fault for their parents divorce. I will be thinking in those few moments of time of the unemployed who are feeling like they have no self-worth. I will pray for those who are overwhelmed by a sense of failure, fear, and despair.

In front of all of these hardships and sufferings, everything seems to be impossible. And yet, people still show up at the door of the Catholic Church in the midst of these sufferings. They must know that even if we are able to provide some temporary assistance, it is unlikely that we can solve these terrible situations. Then why do they come?

At Midnight Mass, we will hear that the shepherds were watching over their flocks by night. They were surrounded by the darkness. It was to these shepherds that the angels announced Christ's nearness. It was unto them that a Savior is born. Maybe these people come to the Catholic Church in these great moments of sorrow and need because they still have hope that Christ is near to those in darkness.

Sometimes, at this joyful time of the year, when we see the suffering and darkness that is present in the world, we have difficulty reconciling the contrast. Tragedy seems all the worse when it occurs near Christmas. We often think that these moments of darkness and sorrow steal from the joy that rightfully belongs to Christmas. But, it is actually the other way around. The news that Christmas brings is that those who dwell in darkness and in the land of gloom are not alone. God has drawn close to them and He loves them.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote a Christmas hymn entitled, "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day." When he wrote it, he was deeply sorrowed after tragically losing his wife and because of his son's terrible wounds from the Civil War. Longfellow basically asks how we can be joyful when there is so much pain and suffering. But, the bells of the church won't stop their ringing. They become more persistent despite all of the sorrow. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M7670CXvPX0

We Christians have a vital task in the world: By our Faith, Hope, and Charity we continue the work of the angels. We are like the bells of Christendom who announce to those who feel alone, cursed, and forgotten that God is near. Peace on Earth and Good Will to Men.

We Miss You, Really

2011-12-19T22:34:00.001-05:00

Downtown Beverly

One of the benefits of having been in the same parish for a while is that I not only know the faithful parishioners fairly well, but I have also come to know the not so faithful parishioners. Perhaps, I bump into them at the occasional party or as I'm walking down the street. Maybe it is a police officer who always stops to talk to me or the owner of a local restaurant who consistently shows great kindness to me. Sometimes they express remorse or guilt for not coming to church. Other times, they might make a joke about lightening striking them. Other times, they don't mention it. Sometimes, I mention it. "We miss you. Don't wait too long to come back."

As time passes, I've realized something about these people and me: I really and truly miss them. The other day, I met a high school student who comes only occasionally to Mass. I really didn't know him at all. We chatted for a little while as we were working on some project together. Afterwards it struck me that having spent an hour or two with that kid, I miss him. I miss that he is not with us more. Our parish would be so much better with him. The cop whom I always invite to church: It isn't because I'm trying to coerce him into fulfilling his responsibility. I invite him because I know it would be good for him, good for our parish, and good for lots of other people. I invite him because I miss him.

I've learned that a lot of parish priesthood is meeting people on their turf--literally and figuratively. When they see that the priest is interested--truly interested--in them, then the proposal to return to the Church is more easily accepted. And, in the instances where it has not yet been accepted, I think these persons see in their friendship with me that the door still stands open to them. Our encounters serve as a reminder to them that the Church loves them and wants them.

As Christmas approaches, I'm thinking and praying for these persons whom I truly miss. Some of them I've met many times and am happy to be called their friend. Others, I haven't met yet. But, I miss them nonetheless. I hope this Christmas they discover what they've been missing. And, I hope that I find what I've been missing: them.

The Church Grows Through Friendship

2011-12-17T06:29:00.003-05:00

Blessed John Paul II as a young priest

If you have ever been part of the ecclesial movement, Communion and Liberation, you have been asked the question, "How did you meet the Movement?" The question is inevitable. And usually, the answer involves other persons. "I met so and so and they invited me." "I went to a lecture and the presenter moved my heart." "I read an article online and called the author." One of the interesting things about Communion and Liberation is that it is constantly proposing Christ, but it does so through the methodology of friendship. It models itself on the method used by Christ.

In the beautiful document entitled, Pastores dabo vobis, ("I will Give You Shepherds") Blessed John Paul II says that the priest is to make present in the midst of the flock Christ the Head and Shepherd of the Church. He does this, of course, in the Mass and in the confessional, but he does it in a thousand other human interactions, as well. These every day interactions between a priest and his people strengthen their bond, deepen their love, and draw them closer to Christ. To sacrifice these every day interactions would be to lose a key evangelical method and to weaken the special bond that exists between a priest and his people.

Is it true that on our deathbed, a Catholic will take any priest to bring them the sacraments? Surely. Is it true that the Mass is always the Mass whether it is offered by Pope Benedict XVI or me? Of course. But, Catholic people are often introduced into these truths by a priest with whom they have established a particular bond. The gospels list the names of the Twelve Apostles. Jesus chose particular men. Catholics come to encounter Christ through particular faces and particular priests.

Let me offer one small example. Recently, I met a high school student who is not particularly close to the Church. I'm not sure why that is the case, but he isn't. Circumstances put us together. Before long, this young person who has probably never spoken to a priest was joking around and even giving me a hard time. In that time together, I recognized that Christ was using this particular priest in this particular moment. It was in our convesation together that Christ was opening up a small possibility of drawing this young person into the life of the Church. In Christianity, particulars matter. This young person had a small taste of the friendship of the Church because he had the opportunity to spend some time with a priest.
I think of Blessed John Paul II who spent countless hours of his life engaging young people not just in the classroom or at Mass, but also on hikes through the woods, canoe trips, and other excursions. It was their friendship that kept these young people close to the Church. The priest should be a witness to Christian friendship.

Priests ought to waste a lot of time. We ought to waste time going to cookouts and parties. We ought to waste time standing out in the school yard. We ought to waste time playing board games with the high school youth group. We ought to waste time looking for the one lost sheep. Sometimes, in searching for the one lost sheep, you wind up winning over 99 lost sheep. The priest ought to be close to his people, not distant.

Every so often, like all parish priests, I get a phone call from somebody whom I have not seen in a long time. They are usually experiencing some sort of great trial or burden. They call because along the way they established a friendship with a particular priest and they need that friendship again. They need Christ, the Head and Shepherd, but it is through this particular priest that they most easily and readily can find Christ. Can they find him in every priest? Of course. But, into their life God sent a particular priest and it was this particular priest that ate with them, joked with them, taught them, and loved them.

These moments are also important for the priest. A shepherd is sent to a particular people. His heart grows and is educated through the exercise of this ministry. The priest has to be, in a very real sense, the first witness to the communion of the Church. A pastoral plan for the future has to be the plan of Christ himself. Christ lived a friendship with his disciples. This method is frustrating because it leaves open so many opportunities for things to go wrong. It is not scientific. It risks so much! We want a plan that guarantees results and that is low risk. Christ risked everything on his apostles. He risked that the friendship that he offered to them and that they encountered would ultimately win the day.

I think that a plan that is truly pastoral must be a plan that brings pastors closer to their people. Over the past few years, we have spoken a lot about people's attachments to their church buildings. And, I understand this attachment and don't underestimate it. Particular places are important. But, I wonder if we should not be emphasizing the friendship of the Church and the communion of life shared between pastors and people. It is this friendship that is the method for communicating the gospel. I'd risk everything on this friendship because that's what Jesus does.

The Bell that Awakens Us to Christ's Presence

2011-12-15T06:38:00.001-05:00

Every day at Noon, the bells of our parish church ring the Angelus. Sometimes, because it becomes like familiar background music, I don't really hear it. But, even if I am in mid-sentence, somebody on the staff will start making the Sign of the Cross. And before long, the whole staff is gathered for a few minutes as we make our way through that beautiful prayer that commemorates the Angel Gabriel's annunciation to Mary and Mary's obedient, "Yes."

In this moment, our awareness that "the Word was made flesh and dwells among among us" becomes stengthened. Those bells remind us that what happened in the virginal womb of the Blessed Virgin Mary changed the whole world. Those bells draw each of us from our offices--whether we are working on the parish bulletin, the parish finances, youth ministry, music, homily preparation etc--and we remember that everything we do is because of Christ.

In this brief moment of refuge during the day, I am also mindful of all of my friends who are pausing at this precise moment in acknowledgement of the Incarnation. This moment of communion extends not just to those gathered in the rectory. I am mindful of the seminarians who are getting ready to eat lunch at the seminary and who are praying with us. I pray with the parishioners who are at their desks at work and who are joining in this prayer. I am united with the doctor at Mass General Hospital who is praying there. I am united to those with whom I have prayed this prayer in the past. I am united to my parishioners who are busy doing a thousand things who do not have the luxury to pause at this moment. In this oasis in the middle of the day's heat, I also remember and am united to those who have asked for my prayers and for those who are struggling and who feel alone in their suffering, sin, and darkness.

Pausing in the middle of the day to acknowledge this tremendous mystery is awesome. It is as if we are joining the entire creation and the entire Church from all time. The universe stops. Planets stop their revolutions, angels hold their breath, and mortals await the answer upon which their eternity depends. Everyone and everything awaits the Virgin's reply. And having heard once again her "Yes" and being confirmed that Christ dwells among us, we can live every moment of life with a newness that otherwise is impossible.

What I Can, I Give Him; Give My Heart

2011-12-14T10:40:00.001-05:00

When I first became a pastor, my parish had substantial financial problems. I remember one night sitting at a finance meeting and being overwhelmed by the situation. After the meeting, one of the members sent out a detailed list of the issues and the action steps to be taken to solve the issues. Immediately, I was relieved. I was relieved because I saw that there were solutions to the problems and that I was not alone in these difficulties. We were in it together.

Sometimes, when we confront the reality of sin in our life, we can feel a bit overwhelmed and like we are totally alone in our struggle. This is perhaps why people avoid seriously considering the state of their souls. The problems seem too ingrained to do anything about them. And, knowing how weak we are, the thought of overcoming these sins by sheer force of will seems an impossible task. If you find yourself in this position, you are not alone and there is a solution to your problem. In the Sacrament of Confession, Christ shares his victory over sin and death with us.

There are always reasons why people don't go to confession. I hope in this post to provide some good reasons to go to confession and some practical advice. Sometimes, people don't go to confession because they have forgotten how to do so. I hope this is helpful to somebody.

Before you go into the confessional, spend some time examining your conscience. There are many good examiniation of consciences online. One that seems particularly exhaustive can be found here: http://www.scborromeo.org/confess.htm

Don't be overwhelmed by the examination. The reason God gave us confession is not because he thought that maybe some day, some person, might possibly not be entirely perfect. He gave us the sacrament because he knows that we need it. The reason why we have the examination of conscience is not because somebody decided to come up with a list of things that nobody would ever consider doing. The examination of conscience is a list of sins that have become identified as common traps. If you've fallen into one of those traps, confession is meant to extricate you from it. An examination of conscience ought to make us squirm a little bit. Don't be afraid of honestly assessing your life.

When you go into the confessional, tell the priest how long it has been since your last confession. Tell him roughly how old you are and whether you are married, single, a priest, a religious etc. This just helps the priest understand a little bit of who you are.

Then, tell him your sins. If you need to bring a list with you, bring the list. (Burn it afterwards!) To the best of your ability, tell the priest all serious sins and how many times you have committed those sins. If you cannot remember the exact number, say, "lots" or "a few times."

Believe it or not, the priest doesn't need to know nor does he want to know all of the sordid details. Tell him the sins. If afterwards the priest needs to clarify something, he might ask you some question. But, he doesn't need for you to give the background and circumstances of each sin. You lied three times? Then say, "I lied three times." My experience is that the priest is only going to ask a question if he is confused about something or if he needs to clarify if the sin is in the distant past or yesterday, or if the sin is an ongoing issue.

Feel relieved that you are only responsible for confessing your own sins. Don't tell the priest, "I got impatient . . . but that's because my mother-in-law is a rotten, self-centered, mean-spirited, selfish, woman." Your mother-in-law is responsible for her own confession!

If you are particularly embarrassed about some sin or another, just say it. Usually, sins of the flesh are the ones that are most embarrassing. What is so amazing is how these sins appear to exercise such power over a person and then, the moment a person confesses them, they realize that the power of these sins evaporates. Sexual sins embarrass people into not confessing. But confessing these sins deprives the sins of all of their imaginary power. To this end, let me say that the priest hearing confessions has heard the words, "adultery, fornication, homosexual activity, pornography, and masturbation" before. Unless you happen to be the first person ever to go to confession to that priest, you are not going to tell him anything he hasn't already heard many times.

Speaking of which, I could not imagine a priest thinking less of somebody who has come to confession. When I hear confessions and somebody comes to me and humbly confesses their sins, my heart is filled with a great love and joy. The priest is SO happy to know that Jesus is using his priesthood to reconcile this person and to free them from the burden of sin. I could not imagine a priest thinking less of somebody who has gone to confession. And, if you haven't been to confession in ten, twenty, or thirty years, then the priest feels like God sent to him "a big fish!"

Also, most priests are fairly busy. I can assure you that we do not spend our days thinking about who and what we heard in confession. We move on fairly quickly from hearing confessions to a thousand other things.

Remember, priests go to confession too. We know what it is like to be on the other side of the screen.

If you have had an abortion or assisted in an abortion: JESUS LOVES YOU. Sometimes, people carry the weight of this sin around with them for decades. They do everything possible to bury this sin. But, it continuously re-surfaces. People feel that deep down they can never be forgiven and that they have no place in the Church. Often, they even go through all of the motions of a Catholic life, but deep down, they feel as though they really can never truly be part of the Church. They think that they are a fraud. Jesus died for these sins. He wants to give you pardon and peace. Don't be afraid to confess this sin. It will set you free.

After you've confessed all of your sins, let the priest know that you are done. A lot of people say something like, "For these and for all of my sins, I am truly sorry." This helps the priest to know that you have finished confessing.

Then, the priest might ask for some clarification and will give you a penance to do or to say. If you don't understand what the penance is, ask him to explain. Then, he might ask you to "make an act of contrition." You can bring one with you, you can express one in your own words, or you can simply say, "Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me, a sinner." Then, the priest will absolve you.

Christmas is fast approaching. There is no more beautiful way to prepare for Christmas than by coming to confession. There is a beautiful and not too well known Christmas hymn entitled, "In the Bleak Mid-Winter." http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_hs9-Sxf9j4 The last verse says, "What can I bring him, poor as I am? If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb. If I were a Wise Man, I would do my part. Yet what I can I give him; give my heart." If you are afraid to go to confession, perhaps imagine yourself as someone who is very poor. While others have something seemingly important to offer the Lord, all you have to offer is your heart. Go into the confessional as though you were entering the manger and offer to the Christ Child the gift that only you can give to him; your heart.

When You Meet a Good Priest, You Just Know It

2011-12-12T22:52:00.000-05:00

Back in April, I was given responsibility for a second parish and in June, another priest was assigned to assist me in my pastoral responsibilities for both parishes.  Although I had lived with other priests before and have had a handful of seminarians live here at various times, the thought of having a priest move in after I had been alone for three years, made me a little nervous. Had I become too use to leaving alone?

In the gospel, Jesus speaks about how good shepherds are not like the hired hands. The hired hands do whatever is expedient and easy. When trouble comes, they run away and leave the sheep to fend for themselves.  Having been a pastor for about eight years now, I realize that I have become protective of my sheep. I only want the very best for them.  I guard them.

So, I knew I didn't want a priest who would preach crazy things, offer the Mass in a cavalier manner, or who would be unkind to the people. These were my general concerns about anybody coming here. What did we get?

We got a young priest who patiently puts up with all of my flaws. He devoutly offers the Mass each day. He goes over to church every morning at 6:20--even when he doesn't have the Mass--to lead the people in the praying of the Rosary. He spends a considerable amount of time preparing his homilies. He is joyful. He loves the people. He devotedly visits the sick. He prays.  He visits the school, the religious education program, and he makes himself available for confessions.

The people love him and that makes me very happy. It is always a source of sorrow when a parish has a priest who doesn't exude a love for the priesthood, a love for the people, and a love for the Church. Usually, when these loves are missing, the priest is given over to complaining to the people about the hierarchy, complaining about the people to other priests, and complaining to everybody about how busy he is. I am very grateful that the priest with whom I live loves the Church, loves the people, loves the priesthood, and loves his day off--but happily sacrifices that day off whenever needed, in order to love others first.

The people of St. Mary Star of the Sea and St. Margaret's got a great priest.

Living a Life of Privilege

2011-12-11T21:47:00.001-05:00

Nothing here is particularly newsworthy in the sense that it happens every weekend. But for me, it is new. Even though it is almost identical to last weekend and will likely be repeated next weekend, it carries with it a great newness.

The group of college kids who come to Mass together. I confidently called one of them by name--but it was the wrong name.
High School kids at Youth Night.
The two dying men I met at the hospital. Their faith was inspiring.
A father with his two children. His wife and newborn son were at home.
A married couple whose kids are all now in college.
The recently married couple.
The young couple who will be getting married here and who drive here every week from a considerable distance.for Sunday Mass.
An old timer who is a savvy business man, a great man of faith, and whose son is very sick.
The man whose wife recently died.
The family who came to the Five and who joked afterwards about which member made the most mistakes with the "And also with you/and with your spirit" contest.
The lady who takes care of her husband who has dementia.
The woman whose marriage dissolved and who brings her children to Mass every week.
The young family who had us all for dinner.

These are some of the people I saw this weekend. I love them.

Every parish priest could give a similar account. But, it never gets old. At the end of a Sunday, if you're a parish priest, you cannot help but feel privileged.

Christmas by the Numbers

2011-12-11T07:15:00.001-05:00

St. Mary Star of the Sea Church, Beverly

In the next few days, the calls will begin. "What time are your Masses on Christmas Eve?" And then there is the inevitable follow-up question that--even though we've heard it a million times--keeps the rectory staff entertained: "And what time is your Midnight Mass?" I know that many parishes move their Midnight Mass to earlier in the evening and I have no great objection to that. For now, while I am still relatively young and have the assistance of other priests, I will try to keep the Midnight Mass at . . . Midnight. (By the way, this year, in addition to the full choir and organ, the Midnight Mass will have a brass quartet as well!)

When I was first ordained, somebody told me that the trick for keeping on your game for the Midnight Mass was to take a nap beween the Christmas Eve Mass and the Midnight Mass. I tried that. It made me more tired. For two hours, I'd lay in bed worrying that I might oversleep for the Mass and then the Midnight Mass would be the 12:30 Mass. So, no napping.

Then, an invitation came. A family in the parish asked if the priest with whom I lived and I would like to come for Christmas Eve dinner at their home. And with that invitation, a tradition was born. This year, not only will it be two priests. It will be three priests . . . and two seminarians. No partridge in a pear tree, however. And, they always have a few other families join them too.

This tradition has become for me a very beautiful part of Christmas. Their generous hospitality towards us is a real Christmas gift. We always leave their home feeling as though we've participated in something truly beautiful.

I've been particularly blessed during the past several years to have good priest friends and seminarians meet and befriend my parishioners. I am struck by how the parishioners welcome these men, support them, encourage them, and love them. So often when I receive a dinner invitation now, people will say, "And bring whoever else is staying at the rectory with you."

I am also struck by how the parishioners are encouraged and find joy in witnessing the communion that exists among these priests and seminarians. At a moment in time when the numbers of priests are decreasing, I think it is particularly edifying for people to see 3, 4, 5, 6 seminarians and priests (the oldest--being 40) all under the same roof. And, I think that the friendship that we share together, the common mission, the seriousness of purpose, the joy and banter, and the love for the priesthood and the Church is something that communicates a newness to others. I think the seminarians especially benefit from these encounters with parish families and I think the families are enriched by the presence of these men.

These days, I hear a lot about numbers. Fewer Catholics go to Mass. Fewer priests and seminarians. I know that these numbers are real and need to be taken seriously. I don't know what things will be like in five or ten years. All I know is that this year, these are the numbers: Dozens of great families who welcome priests and seminarians into their homes. Christmas Eve dinner, three priests and two seminarians. And the Midnight Mass will take place at 12 Midnight. All of these numbers add up to one thing--Jesus promises his disciples a hundredfold and Jesus is keeping his promises.

Help Your Neighbor Rejoice: Go To Mass

2011-12-10T12:50:00.001-05:00

This morning, I offered the Funeral Mass for Ginny, a 95 year old parishioner. Her husband (who died a few years ago) and she met on a Friday Night Novena in our parish church. They were married here some 70 years ago. Her parents were married here thirty years before that. Although small in stature, she was a pillar of the parish. Perhaps in previous years, she was more active in the parish. But in the years since I've been here, her witness was simply attending Mass on Sundays. Hers is the type of presence to which you wouldn't give too much consideration. You would just know she'd be at Mass and you would know where she sat. But there's a certain comfort to that. We don't realize it at the time, but those quiet witnesses give us a lot of strength.

This Sunday is Gaudete (Rejoice) Sunday. Taken from St. Paul's Letter to the Phillipians, the Introit for Mass on the Third Sunday of Advent says, "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, rejoice. Indeed, the Lord is near."

Why did St. Paul have to repeat himself? Doesn't rejoicing just come naturally? When something goes our way, don't we naturally rejoice? Why does St. Paul have to instruct people to rejoice? And, why does he have to repeat himself? St. Paul teaches us something about Christian rejoicing. It is not based upon circumstances. He himself was writing from prison.

Christian joy is born from a confidence in Christ's nearness to us. This nearness is not always indicated by the circumstances. In fact, Isaiah the prophet says that this nearness is specifically meant to bring glad tidings to the poor and to the brokenhearted. Suffering and sin always bring with them a temptation to feel isolated. St. Paul teaches us that even the sinner and the infirm can rejoice because the Lord is particularly near to them. He is bringing his salvation to them.

The Church bears faithful witness to Christ's nearness. When Catholics gather each Sunday at Mass, they remind each other that we have good reason to rejoice. If we are unemployed, suffering illness, experiencing marital difficulties, worried about wayward children, burdened by past sins, suffering from addiction, or in a spiritual malaise, we should rejoice. What? Yes, I say it again: Rejoice. Why? The Lord is near.

Among the many reasons (and certainly not the most important reason) that we should be faithful to the Sunday Mass is because our faithful witness--even if it seems anonymous and insignificant--might just be a quiet confirmation for somebody else who is suffering that the Lord is truly near.

I doubt that Ginny ever thought she was bearing witness to anybody by attending Mass every Sunday. She was there to fulfill her obligation before God--as well she should. But, during her 95 years of life, she became a sign to others. Her steadfast presence somehow made us more aware of the Lord's nearness.
Our fidelity to the Mass on Sundays helps those who are suffering in some way or another--physically, emotionally, or spiritually--to know the Lord's nearness. And this nearness gives them cause to rejoice.

Every Sunday for almost a century, a great lady came to the same church and took up her seat. And as I think about her quiet witness, I rejoice because I realize anew, the Lord is near.

The Parish: Encountering the Face of Christ

2011-12-09T06:06:00.001-05:00

Last night was spent sitting around a conference table with four priests and ten lay people. The topic was developing a pastoral plan for the three parishes of Beverly (where I am assigned). The plan, among other things, needs to take into account that the day is fast coming when there will only be one priest in Beverly. Discussions like these inevitably involve facts, figures, graphs, projections, and statistics. They also involve emotions.

As I drove home from the meeting (exhausted), the priest with whom I live and I discussed how great the laity of our parishes are. The folks who serve on this committee (and other committees in our parishes) are remarkably intelligent and capable of bringing their expertise to these conversations. And, they have a love for the Church and a love for the priesthood. As a pastor, having lay people who bring these two gifts--intelligence and charity--to the table is such a huge relief and consolation.

When I was in seminary, some professors would talk about "collaboration with the laity" as though this idea had to be drilled into the heads of future priests because they suspected that we'd be naturally resistent to such a notion. What I've discovered in my parish experience is that, in large part, such collaboration comes rather easily. The people of parishes love their parish priests and actually want their shepherds to be shepherds. They respect and honor the vocation of the priest--a vocation that unites him to Christ as Head and Shepherd. Similarly, parish priests (I'm sure there are some exceptions) respect and honor the varied gifts that the lay men and women bring to their parishes.

Often, when I leave a meeting in my parish, I do so with tremendous gratitude that not only do the men and women who serve have expertise in particular fields (such as business), but that their expertise is enfolded within a deep and abiding love for the Church and for the priesthood. I'm always struck by the fact that these men and women are busy with work and family. They are not suffering from boredom or from a need for self-importance. Despite an already full plate, these men and women devote themselves to serving the Church. It is impressive. Whenever I spend time with them in meetings, at their dinner table, or at a baseball game, I leave more educated. They educate me not only about their specific areas of expertise, but also about my humanity and my vocation. They educate me in Christ.

My experience is that the parish is a place where we experience friendship in Christ and friendship with Christ. Absent this friendship, why in the world would tired and busy lay men and women give so much of their time and energy? Numbers, figures, statistics . . . these are all important and helpful. But, these men and women spend all day dealing with such realities. They don't need to come to another meeting at night to talk more about them (and not get paid for it!). Then, why do they come? They come because the face of Christ is encountered in the communion of the Church. A pastoral plan needs to be built upon a communion of life--a communion that cannot be created by force of will. It is a communion that is given by Christ and can only be humbly accepted and obeyed. When we receive this communion, love this communion, and obey this communion, Christ does beautiful things. He did this for his first disciples and he does it for us today.

Evangelization: Witness to Christ's Victory

2011-12-07T22:13:00.001-05:00

When I was in high school, a seminarian was assigned to my home parish. His influence and friendship became a signpost for me in the development of my priestly vocation. During the past few years, one of the parishes that I serve has been blessed to have seminarians that are either from the parish, assigned to the parish, or who just like to spend time here. Some are from the diocesan seminary and a few are from religious orders. Their vocations were either born in this parish or they find nourishment here. What really strikes me about their presence is the tremendous love that they receive from the parishioners.

The people love seminarians. They encourage their vocations. They pray for them and support them. They feel particularly honored and blessed that these men are among them. Their presence also encourages others to consider the priesthood. I think the people are really happy to see normal men who are so happy to be preparing for the priesthood. The people of the parish find joy in the vocation of these men and the men are encouraged by the love and joy of the parishioners.

Sometimes, people here ask, "What vocation crisis?" They see, firsthand, young men who have either been sent here as part of their preparation for the priesthood or they see young men who go from the parish to enter the seminary. The presence of these seminarians makes the parish feel young and part of something new. They see that Christ is still calling men to follow him. They feel honored that they are part of something so important and so beautiful. And, they can more easily encourage their sons to consider the priesthood because their sons see, know, and love these other men who are doing the same thing.

When I witness the love that the people and the seminarians have for each other in this parish, I am deeply grateful. They mutually enrich one another by their beautiful example. The people see these men and love them for willing to lay down their lives to be shepherds. The seminarians see these tremendous people and are encouraged and strengthened in their desire to become shepherds after the heart of Christ.

It is a privilege to witness the love that these parishioners and these seminarians share. Sometimes, people--and priests, especially--talk as though everything were in decline. But, the presence of one priestly vocation in a parish is a an unconquerable sign of Christ's victory. It is too easy to talk about how difficult everything is. But, the Church is built on witnessing to the victory of Christ. The apostles had to evangelize the entire world from scratch. That must have been a daunting prospect. But, they did it. They did it by bearing witness to the victory of Christ.

As we think about evangelization, we ought not to focus on all of the obstacles. We ought not to focus on all of the people who have rejected the Gospel, who have not become priests, who have not been faithful. We ought to witness to the power of Christ's victory in the lives of those who are faithful--and this witness will draw others to respond to Christ's invitation to "follow me."

Shepherds After the Heart of Christ

2011-12-07T07:19:00.001-05:00

If you are a priest in Boston these days, you are thinking about the proposed pastoral plan for the Archdiocese. I think priests are genuinely trying to grapple with the principles and the practicalities. During the past couple of days, I've conversed with several priests about this topic and I've been consistently struck by their pastoral charity. As priests ponder the direction of the Archdiocese, they do so with a tremendous love for the people entrusted to their care.

Any proposed pastoral plan demands sufficient reflection on how it will support and encourage vocations to the priesthood. The pastoral plan of Christ requires pastors. In what type of parishes do vocations emerge? What do the numbers tell us? These are things we need to know in order to replicate their success.

I have nothing other than instinct and anecdotal evidence to support what I'm about to offer, but I'm willing to wager that these assumptions are accurate. In no particular order, I'd proffer that

Vocations to the priesthood arise from parishes that:

Encourage Eucharistic Adoration, Confession, Daily Mass.
Have had stable pastoral leadership.
Pray regularly that God raises up priestly vocations from that parish.
Have parishioners who love the priesthood.
Are doctrinally faithful.
Celebrate the Liturgy with reverence, obedience, and dignity.
Preach the Gospel in its fullness.
Who see and have regular contact with their priest.
Have priests who love the priesthood, are joyful, and obedient.
Have priests who exercise good priestly headship and who work well with the laity.

I think a good question to ask about any pastoral plan is whether it will promote or undermine priestly vocations. In fact, this is a key question in Boston because part of what is driving the present plan is the declining number of priests. Whatever pastoral plan is adopted, it ought to be one that strengthens the bond between the laity and the priesthood, emphasizes the necessity, identity, fatherhood, headship, and stability of the priest, and strives to do everything possible to create parishes where vocations to the priesthood flourish.

No Risk, No Evangelization

2011-12-06T06:16:00.001-05:00

When Blessed John Paul II came to Boston in 1979, the homily he preached at the Mass on Boston Common was based entirely on the Gospel of the Rich Young Man. This particular gospel always moves me because it reveals man's capacity to act contrary to his own happiness in such a radical way. In front of that young man--a young man who seemingly had a sincere desire to find true happiness--in front of that young man was Christ, the key to man's happiness. The young man intuited this reality by the very fact that he came to Christ with this desire. He came to Christ and sought happiness. We are told that Jesus looked at him with love and then gave him a precise answer, "Follow me."

But, the young man's face fell. He no longer looked at Christ. And then, he went away sad. This encounter between the young man and Christ is profoundly moving. It reveals man's capacity to stand in front of the truth and to say, "No." What strikes me about this gospel encounter is that the young man seemingly had everything necessary to embrace the truth. He had the desire for happiness. He had the gaze of Christ upon him. He didn't have just some philosophical proposal in front of him. He had Christ. And yet, he chose to go away.

I think of this as the Archdiocese of Boston ponders its future and considers various proposals for a pastoral plan. At the very heart of this plan--as Cardinal Sean O'Malley said yesterday--must be Christ. The Church must propose Christ anew to the people of today. It must be an effective witness and sign of the presence of Christ. It must communicate to the people of Boston today the invitation to follow Christ.

Any pastoral plan ultimately has to engage the human person's freedom. The best chance of being successful is to put Christ in front of man. This means proposing Christianity in all of its fullness and beauty. This means--to the best of our ability--to gaze upon others with the gaze of Christ and to propose to others the marvelous invitation to follow Christ. And to do so tirelessly, generously, and joyfully.

But, there is a great humility taught by the gospel account of the Rich Young Man. No matter how effective our witness, no matter how profound our love, no matter how authentic our teaching, ultimately the decision to follow Christ is a grace that can be accepted or rejected. The failure of the Rich Young Man to follow Christ was not the result of a failure of method. It was a failure of freedom.

We ought always to ask ourselves how we can better evangelize. This evangelization, however, must begin with us being obedient to the loving gaze of Christ. It must begin with us being convinced of this gaze and transformed by this gaze. The method of Christ was to gaze with love and to speak an invitation that requires a sacrifice on the part of man. To follow Christ requires a sacrifice. The Rich Young Man was unwilling to offer that sacrifice. He chose his possessions and rejected Christ. It is frightening to acknowledge this possibility.

Evangelization is not a membership drive. It is to propose to man's freedom the gaze and invitation of Christ. I hope that the Church grows by leaps and bounds. I hope that the pastoral plan that is adopted makes us more agile and unimpeded in our efforts to make the Christian proposal to others. But, no structures, programs, committees, or plans can eliminate the fact that evangelization ultimately risks everything on man's freedom. Evangelization is not about building stronger parishes. (That may be a secondary result). Evangelization is about man and Christ's love for him.

In the life of the Church, I encounter the gaze of Christ and am convinced by it. Evangelization is to make present in history the gaze of Christ and to propose Christ to others. This always involves risking the startling possibility that man might say, "No." And then, tomorrow--convinced all over again by the gaze of Christ that I encounter in the communion of the Church--to risk everything again.

A Marvelous Love Poured into the Heart

2011-12-04T20:42:00.001-05:00

Psalm 16 says, "He has put into my heart a marvelous love for the faithful ones who dwell in his land." On Sunday nights, after a full day, this is what must be the thought of every priest. It's awesome. Who are these faithful ones?

They are:

The elderly woman who told me today that she will soon turn 91. Every week, she asks me, "Where's my hug?" (Truth be told, I'm not much of a "hugger," but for her . . . always). I have a marvelous love in my heart for her.

The young man in his twenties who took his little brother to Mass today.

The older couple who are starting to experience various health issues, but who lean on each other to get to Mass and whom I admire for their devotion to each other and their devotion to the Church.

The family who never came to church and have started coming recently.

The two college kids who sat at the back of church.

The young couple who bring their kids to Mass and sit on the "Mary Side" of the church.

The man and his mother who come each week to Mass and arrive early to pray. (They sit on the Mary Side too).

Then there's the young man who was there today with his two children. His wife couldn't be there because she is on bed rest, expecting their third.

Warren. He's a beautiful man who has Down Syndrome. He sometimes comes to two or three Masses. (You cannot talk to Warren and not leave smiling.)

The choir.

The middle-aged couple who sit on the St. Joseph Side.

The high school kid who is developing an interest in the youth group.

The older married couple who come every Sunday and who always give me some word of encouragement.

They are a thousand other persons too. I know some by their names, some by the painful situations for which they have asked me to pray. Some by just subtle smiles, a passing word, the place they sit, the passing remarks on the way in or out of Mass, or the familiar gestures. They are old and young, wealthy and poor, and everything in between.

They are the faithful.

And to priests he has given a special grace. He has given them the virtue of pastoral charity. What is the virtue of pastoral charity? Psalm 16 tells us: "He has put into my heart a marvelous love for the faithful who dwell in his land."

Are You Ready to Receive Good News?

2011-12-03T12:14:00.001-05:00

A dozen or so years ago, a woman asked me to go with her to inform her mother that her son had committed suicide. When we got to her apartment building, we rang the bell and got buzzed in. We took the elevator upstairs and when we arrived at the apartment door, we knocked. The mother opened the door, looked at her daughter and then at me. When she saw me, she immediately leaned against the wall and lowered herself to the floor. She intuitively knew what message we were delivering and she needed to brace herself to receive the horrific news.

We often feel the need to prepare others (and ourselves) for bad news. We lead up to it in the hopes that they will be better able to handle the situation. "I have some difficult news for you." "I have to tell you something very sad." Such preparation respects their humanity. We need to be made ready to receive life-changing news.

The readings this Sunday remind us that it is not only bad news for which we need to be prepared. We need to be prepared to receive the Good News. We need to be prepared to welcome the Gospel. St. Mark begins his Gospel by telling us right up front, "This is the Beginning of the Gospel of Jesus Christ the Son of God." And then, we are brought immediately out to the desert with John the Baptist who is preparing people for the coming of the Good News. They and us need to be ready to receive this Good News.

Whether we acknowledge it or not, we are all in the desert. It is the human condition--a condition that makes us yearn for fulfillment, completion, and perfection. We hunger for truth, for beauty, for goodness, and for justice. But, we tend to rebel against this emptiness and attempt to manufacture solutions to it. And these attempts turn our emptiness into a dismal abyss that deprives us of hope.

But John the Baptist and Advent show us another way. Our emptiness cannot be solved by our efforts, but our emptiness can become the place of our encounter with Christ. It was in the emptiness of the womb of the Blessed Virgin Mary that the Good News became flesh. Our part, in a sense, is to safeguard our emptiness and when we fail to do so, to repent. If we live this Advent with a greater acknowledgement of our need and of our dependence upon Another, then we are in the perfect postion to receive the Good News--Jesus Christ.

Let's Get Convinced and Be Convincing

2011-12-02T18:12:00.001-05:00

I remember when I was a newly ordained priest, I gave a homily one Sunday about the resurrection and how we too will "rise with Christ." After Mass, numerous folks spoke to me to find out what exactly I was talking about. I said, "You know, the resurrection." One guy asked, "Is this just your opinion or is this something the Church teaches?" I was astounded. Another time, I remember driving in my car and listening to a "talk radio" show. The caller was criticizing the Church about something or other and he said, "You know, I've been a Catholic my whole life. I went to CCD and church. And all I can say is that right now Jesus must be rolling over in his grave." The show's two Catholic hosts concurred. I thought, "Good grief, this is where we are."

The New Evangelization not only involves an active going out to proclaim the Gospel to those who have not heard it. The New Evangelization desperately requires a re-evanagelization of those who have already heard it. If those in the pews are supposed to--as one of the new options for the dismissal at Mass says--"Go and announce the Gospel of the Lord," then they themselves have to be well-formed in the Faith.

This week, the Wall Street Journal published an article about the Archdiocese of Boston and the article mentioned that we are about to put a focus on evangelization. One person quoted in the article said that he knew of a diocese where people were going to be going "door to door." I think that is great. But, we need to make certain that when somebody opens the door, we have something to tell them. And, if those people who open their doors decide to walk through the doors of a Catholic parish, we should be prepared to offer them the Gospel in all of its fullness and beauty.

At the beginning of the New Millennium, Blessed John Paul II wrote about the New Evangelization. This is what he said:

"It is not therefore a matter of inventing a "new programme". The programme already exists: it is the plan found in the Gospel and in the living Tradition, it is the same as ever. Ultimately, it has its centre in Christ himself, who is to be known, loved and imitated, so that in him we may live the life of the Trinity, and with him transform history until its fulfilment in the heavenly Jerusalem. This is a programme which does not change with shifts of times and cultures, even though it takes account of time and culture for the sake of true dialogue and effective communication. This programme for all times is our programme for the Third Millennium. "

Parishes, schools that take Catholic identity seriously, and the New Movements are the places where the New Evangelization is going to happen. In fact, they are the places where it is already happening. Gimmicks don't sustain the Faith for very long. The program we need is already contained in the life of the Church. I think we need a greater fidelity to preaching the full truth of the Gospel and a greater fidelity to offering the Liturgy with as much dignity and beauty as possible.

The basics of the Gospel and the Creed need to be continually proclaimed. And, we need to recognize in our parishes and Catholic communities that we are part of the same events that took place in the Gospels. Christ is at the center of everything. Christ is the answer to our heart. Christ is the Savior. Christ is the key to eternal life.

The more we become immersed and educated in the Gospels, the Tradition, and the Sacraments, the more we will be made fit for evangelization. When we knock on the door of any heart, we need to be convinced of Christ. We need to be convinced through our own encounter with Christ in the life of the Church that Christ is not in his grave. He is Risen. And through our fidelity to this encounter, we then become effective agents of the New Evangelization. When we are convinced of Christ, evangelization is not some external and oppressive burden imposed upon us. When we are convinced of Christ, it is our joy that compels us to "Go and Announce the Gospel of the Lord." Thanks Be to God.

The Parish: A Friendship that Educates and Encourages

2011-12-01T21:37:00.001-05:00

Education is one of the key elements of parish life. Yes, there is Religious Education, the parish school, Bible Studies, adult education, RCIA etc. And, these are all great. But, for me, the parish as a place of communion and friendship is the key to educating us in the Christian life.

Tonight, I had dinner at the home of a young family in our parish. One of the things that I most enjoy about this particular family is that they are easy and relaxed around me. Sometimes, people get really nervous and uptight around "the priest." Not so tonight.

Hanging out with young families is an especially joyful part of priesthood for me. I'm always grateful when seminarians come to my parish and I'm able to bring them with me to dinner at the homes of families. I think it is important for them to see the beautiful friendships that are part of the priest's life. It always makes me nervous when priests talk about their "day off" as their "real life" and the parish as their "work life." The parish is not only the place where "the people" ought to become holy. The parish is the place where the priest is to become holy. The parish is where priests are educated in Christ.

I'm really grateful that after being a priest for almost fifteen years, I'm still constantly being educated by the life of the parish. Watching people raise their families, hearing about their work experiences, and benefiting from the expertise that they bring to the life of a parish is awesome. From them, not only do I learn about the Catholic life in general, but I also learn something about the priesthood. Tonight is one such example.

Now, this is going to sound totally conceited, but that is not how it is intended, so bear with me. During the course of dinner tonight, the husband got up and said, "Now Father Barnes, I've decided that I'm going to embarrass you." Then, he went and got his Blackberry. He came back and showed me a series of photos. Mine was included. He went on to explain that he was recently at a leadership conference for his company and people were asked to provide somebody that they admire as a good leader. Then he said, "So, there you were up on this big screen, Father Barnes--between Gandhi and Abraham Lincoln. And people were like, "Who the heck is that guy?" Then, we all had a good laugh.

This dinner exchange stuck me as very beautiful. Was I somewhat flattered? Sure. But more than that, I see how the life of a parish can help all of us. I am moved by the example of a young couple living the life of marriage, raising their family, dealing with work and all of the situations that life brings. Their example and friendship encourages me and educates me in the priesthood. Similarly, by his mentioning that story to me, I see that my vocation helps him in some small way to live his life. Parishes ought to be places where we encourage one another in our discipleship.

Two thousand years ago, Christ often educated his disciples at the dinner table. Two thousand years later--in the communion of the Church--Christ continues to educate his disciples at the dinner table. Seeing this young couple in their quest to live their vocation well, I was educated in my own vocation and encouraged. I'm grateful for that and I am grateful to be a priest in the midst of such great people.

We've Got to Go Back to the Start

2011-12-01T06:11:00.001-05:00

Very often, Fr. Luigi Giussani, the founder of the ecclesial movement "Communion and Liberation", would return to the Gospel account of Andrew and John leaving John the Baptist and following Christ. I think he saw in that moment the beginning of the Church. It was in that moment that the friendship between these disciples and Christ was born. Fidelity to the original method of Christ and the early Church requires a lot of faith. There seems to be a never ending attempt to come up with a better way than the original way.

I think of this because here in the Archdiocese of Boston, a series of consultations are about to begin on a new pastoral plan. The plan, in many ways, is driven by numbers; declining Mass attendence, fewer priests, parishes that can't pay their bills etc. The goal seems to be to move parishes from simply struggling to maintain what is presently there to a more evangelical, mission-based model. To that goal, I can only say, "Alleluia."

When I think of the church life in Boston, I sometimes think of a giant skyscraper. We keep busy cleaning the windows, painting the rooms, and adding floors. But, the skyscraper is built on thin wooden stilts. It is the foundation that needs work. The stilts cannot carry the burden of what has been built up over the years.

Sometimes, we focus our plans somewhere up on the 30th floor. But, as the Coldplay song says, "Take me back to the start."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EqWLpTKBFcU&ob=av2e

We have to return--continuously--to the original method of Christ and, despite every temptation to replace that method, we have to become more faithful to it. That original method began with a fascination for Christ and with a friendship. It began with John the Baptist pointing to Christ and announcing, "Behold, the Lamb of God."

Any pastoral plan has to be modeled after the plan of Christ--the one true pastor. His plan was to draw others close to him, to form a friendship with them, and to draw them into communion. This is the method of the Gospel and it is a sacramental method. Every proposed plan, I think, has to compare itself with this fundamental plan. It is always tempting to skip over the foundation and worry about the trim colors. But in the Gospel, Jesus doesn't warn us about picking the wrong color schemes. He warns us about building upon a firm foundation. We need a plan that is fascinated with Christ and faithfully follows the method of Christ.

I don't know why (because it really shouldn't) but, it always surprises me when the Gospel works. Fidelity to Christ and his Gospel works! If we are faithful to his method, people are drawn to Christ and to his Church. If we are faithful to the original method, men enter the seminary, confession lines grow, young people come to Mass, people become Catholics, Catholics become more Catholic, and parishes grow. Without Christ, the net always comes up empty. With Christ, there is fullness.

None of this, by the way, is a criticism of the proposed plan. In fact, I hope that it is a monumental success, that I contribute faithfully to it, and that we are all part of doing something magnificent in the service of Christ. I just think sometimes we drift towards building better parishes, better schools, and better chancery departments, but we don't think about the fact that these things only exist so that we can all become better disciples of Christ and, "Go and make disciples." So, in my thinking about these things, I need be faithful to the beginning. If I am faithful to the foundation, then I trust Christ will build the rest.

We should all pray for the success of this new endeavor. I hope that at the very heart of this new plan is a renewed fascination for Christ and an evangelical fervor for making all things new in Christ.

More, Not Less

2011-11-29T22:33:00.000-05:00

What I find so beautiful about today's Gospel is that when the Lord invited Andrew and Peter to follow, "at once" they left everything and followed him. Was Andrew being impetuous or unreasonable? Quite the contrary! So often, when people speak about vocatations to the priesthood, they immediately begin to recount the things that a man would have to "give up" in order to be a priest. But this is entirely the wrong approach. Is it true that a man must be prepared to sacrifice certain things? Sure. But, we are talking about Christ here! The man who chooses Christ possesses everything else more, not less. Pope Benedict XVI often reminds us that when we follow Christ, we lose nothing of what makes life true, and beautiful, and good. In fact, we gain everything a hundredfold.

Andrew left that boat and his nets because his heart leapt in the presence of Christ. He saw in Christ the answer to his heart's deepest desires. He saw in Christ an invitation to more, not to less. Was it a sacrifice to leave something behind. Absolutely. But, what is the alternative? To say to my heart that is leaping with the joy of discovering Christ, "No, not if it means giving up these things"? If Andrew had opted for the boat and nets, he would have acted against his own heart and his own happiness.

Let's pray for the great men in the seminary. May they never be deluded into going back and looking for the boat and nets that they left behind. Andrew's boat and nets have long turned to dust. But, the souls who came to believe in Christ because of his preaching, they eternally give glory to God. Cling to Christ.

To those considering a vocation to the priesthood: Look at the image above. Christ is so close! In Eucharistic Adoration, you come to see that Christ is near to you. Spend time with the Lord in the Eucharist. And, don't be afraid. The one who has Christ, has everything. When you possess Christ, you possess everything else more, not less.

All of us have an opportunity to bear witness to Christ. Ultimately, Andrew offered a lot more than a boat and nets. He offered his life. In return, Christ gave Andrew the power to preach the Gospel. To any man considering the priesthood, I can assure you that the joy of preaching Christ is reason enough to get out of the boat and follow.

Do You See What I see?

2011-11-29T17:23:00.000-05:00

Dear Friends in Christ: Every week, I write to you in our parish bulletin, but perhaps it is time for me to try something new and get on the blog circuit. We'll see how it works. Now, up front I have to admit that I decided to start this blog this afternoon when I was trying to find a way to avoid preparing for my Finance Council meeting this evening. Nonetheless, I find that when I write to you each week in the bulletin, our communion in Christ is strengthened. So, perhaps a more frequent opportunity to do that might be a good thing. Let's give it a go.

Last Sunday at Mass, I was really moved by what I saw. Isn't it great to have a full church? Whenever you think about missing Sunday Mass (besides that whole issue with the Third Commandment . . .), remember that your absence deprives somebody else of experiencing the joy of a full church. Allow me to tell you about some of the people I saw at Mass this weekend.

I saw four seminarians. These men have heard the voice of Christ calling them to become priests. One is assigned here for the year and three call our parish, home. When they are here, are not our hearts filled with joy? Doesn't their presence compel us to remember Christ calling Peter, Andrew, James, and John? Christ is still calling and young men are still responding to his invitation.

I saw a couple who are mourning the loss of their friend, a 38 year old mother of four.

I saw two adults preparing for baptism at Easter and four other adults preparing to be received into full communion in the Catholic Church. There were couples who were recently married and couples preparing for marriage. There were people who drive long distances to be here each week. There was the man in his nineties who often tells me that he hasn't missed Sunday Mass since he came home from World War II. There was the college kid who goes to school nearby, always comes in late, but always makes it to Mass. There was the woman whose mother is gravely ill in the hospital. There was the person who has been away from the Church for a long time who looked around nervously, her face almost posing the question, "Does God want me back?" (The answer, of course, is "yes!")

I saw parents who are doing their best to raise their children Catholic in a culture that isn't quite so cooperative in that regard. I saw beautiful families--lots of beautiful familes.

I saw many persons who became Catholics later in life.

Because each of these persons worshipped God last Sunday, they helped me to worship God. Because they were at Mass, I was moved by their example and drew closer to Christ. The more we are obedient to Christ and his commands, the more we become signs pointing to Christ. This is the Communion of Saints.

I don't share these things with you in order to boast about our parish (though, I do that as well). I share them with you in order that perhaps you too might be encouraged. I just wanted to hand on to you what I myself have seen from my Shepherd's Post.