Have in You the Same Attitude that Is in Christ Jesus

This weekend, I was on retreat with students from the Boston University Catholic Center.  The title of the retreat was "Encounter."  The second reading for this Sunday said, "Have in you the same attitude that is in Christ Jesus."

This weekend I encountered the same attitude that is in Christ Jesus everywhere I looked.  The priests who drove two hours to come and hear confessions?  That's the attitude of Christ Jesus.  The three young people who gave witnesses on the retreat--the attitude of Christ Jesus.  Our Office Manager and her husband who give up a weekend every year to cook all of the meals for the retreat?  Attitude of Christ Jesus.  The grad student who gave up a weekend to work in the kitchen?  Attitude of Christ Jesus.  The priest who came to give the retreat and who was continuously moved by the example of the students on retreat?  Attitude of Christ Jesus.  The students who served on the retreat team and who planned the retreat?  Attitude of Christ Jesus.  The music ministry who poured themselves out in praising God throughout the weekend?  Attitude of Christ Jesus.  The interns who never stopped for the whole weekend?  Attitude of Christ Jesus.  The FOCUS team joyfully staying close to the students?  Attitude of Christ Jesus.  The priest who covered the 10pm Mass for me so I could crash after the retreat?  Attitude of Christ Jesus.

All around me, I saw young people loving each other, caring for each other, serving each other, praying with each other, encouraging each other, worshipping with each other, and helping each other to go to confession.  

The retreat was entitled "Encounter" because we talked about encounters that Christ had with people in his day.  But, it was also called "Encounter" because the weekend was intended to be an opportunity to encounter Christ.  With so many people having the attitude of Christ Jesus, it was difficult not to encounter Christ.

I hope the young people who came on the retreat encountered Christ.  I know that I did.

Spiritual Fatherhood and Spiritual Childhood

Twenty-four years ago, after my freshman year in college seminary, I travelled to Vanceburg, KY to a farm run by the Glenmary Home Missionaries.  It was a service trip.  Today, I received an email from a guy who was on that service trip with me.  We've kept in touch for twenty-four years.  He's married now, has a couple of kids, and on two or three occasions during those twenty-four years, he's passed through Boston and we've met up.  It sounds strange to say it now, but when we first met and for the first dozen or so years of that time, email didn't exist.  Or, if it did exist, I certainly didn't know or understand anything about it.  We would write an occasional letter to one another.  (The same is true of another guy that I met on that trip.  We've kept in touch for the past twenty-four years--here and there--but we've never seen each other since).

I have to admit, the passage of time makes my memory of those events twenty-four years ago less vivid.  But, I do remember hanging out with this fellow, laying on a dirt road, smoking cigarettes (I was never really a smoker, but in the midst of Vanceburg, Kentucky where we were surrounded by Tobacco, that seemed like the thing to do), and talking about life.  

I've been ordained seventeen years. It makes me really happy to feel like I'm still learning.  I'm just a kid when it comes to priesthood.  I was in one of my assignments for 13 years.  Sometimes other priests would say, "By this point, you must be getting stale."  To me, I was just beginning!  I feel like I am always learning about the priesthood, about discipleship, about the Church.  While I may wake up here and there and dread a particular meeting or a particular event, I still wake up every day fully expecting that something new is going to happen.

This guy who emailed me today reminded me of the beauty of the Church.  It's been twenty-four years since we met.  But, I have confidence that we met because Christ has a plan.  When I became a pastor, it was at a moment when in the Archdiocese of Boston, the whole thing was blowing up.  Christ surrounded me with all of these beautiful lay men and women who, by their openness, desire for true communion, and charity taught me so much about being a priest.

Tomorrow, I leave for a weekend retreat with a group of college students from Boston University.  I'm beginning my second year with them.  I know that I'm the priest and the spiritual father of our community.  And yet, they teach me.  They teach me about the Catholic life and they teach me about priesthood.  This is one of the most beautiful things about the Church to me.  I'm educated daily by the communion of life that I share with the others.  

The people that I encounter in the Church are not all perfect saints.  But each of them--as a member of the Body of Christ--is a gift to me.  They offer me some encouragement in following Christ.  Whether they be 18 years old or 80 years old, whether they be the daily communicant or the person who doesn't even go to church, whether they be the married man, the single woman, or the discerning young person, these people teach me.  They encourage me and educate me.

As a priest, I am a spiritual father.  And at the same time, I am a spiritual child.  For me, one of the best parts of being a priest is that I am continually surprised (like a child) by what Christ does in my life.  Hearing the confessions of college students, watching a father raise his children or a mother tending to the needs of an ill child, or seeing a young person on fire for Christ--all of this surprises me.  It leaves me thinking, "Who am I that I should witness such things?"  

In seventeen years as a priest, I've been surprised a lot.  As I've witnessed various persons whom the Lord has placed in my life this week--people whom I met 24 years ago and people who weren't born 24 years ago, something struck me.  An important part of being a spiritual father--at least for me--is being a spiritual child.  Both as a parish priest and now as a college chaplain, I feel like I'm the one who is learning the most!  I'm the one who is most surprised every day.  I am the one who is being educated the most. 

Both in the parish and in the university, I feel like I give the least and receive the most.  Every day is a surprise for me.  The witness I have to offer to others is this: Despite all of my weaknesses, God surrounds me every day with a host of Christian witnesses.  I need these witnesses and am grateful for them.  By virtue of ordination, I am a spiritual father.  But, that fatherhood is vivified by the constant surprise that comes from being a spiritual child who is loved and cared for by the Good Shepherd.

A Priest's Modest Proposal for the Synod on Families: Resolve to Act Like a Family

During the past few weeks, the Catholic blogosphere has been lighting up over a host of controversial topics.  Some of them have to do with the assignments of bishops and cardinals--who's winning in the ideological battles and who is losing.  Depending upon one's point of view, the good guys are being banished and the bad guys are taking over.  Or, from another perspective, the bad guys are finally being overthrown and the good guys are coming in to shake things up.

Besides personnel matters, there are doctrinal matters.  The Pope has called for a Synod on the Family and one of the hot button topics is the issue regarding communion for the divorced and remarried.  If the press reports are accurate, there are major battles shaping up in the College of Cardinals, one cardinal even speaking of a conspiracy of other cardinals against him.

All of this might make for good press, but I just want to speak from my very small experience as a priest who serves regular people every day.

Maybe . . . just maybe . . . what we need is a little less shake-up and a little more continuity.  Maybe we need a little less controversy, innovation, and change and a little more communion, familiarity, and stability.  I'm not talking about changes that might be good for pastoral governance--like reforming Vatican dicasteries, adapting annulment procedures, and directing the Church towards living the New Evangelization.  I don't mean the kind of change that moves people toward greater holiness, greater apostolic zeal, or greater virtue.  I mean the kind of change that just tends to stir up things in the lives of the Faithful and makes their life more tumultuous.

In the last fourteen years, just in my Archdiocese, we have gone through the sexual abuse crisis wherein scores of priests were accused, found guilty, and removed from ministry, the resignation of the archbishop, a round of parish closings that was basically a disaster, the closing of many Catholic schools because of lack of enrollment, the sale of almost our entire seminary property, a second round of parish reconfiguration, the resignation of a pope, a new liturgical translation, and now very public battles being waged in the blogosphere concerning bishops and cardinals and doctrinal matters pertaining to marriage and the Eucharist.  I understand that controversy and change have always been part of the life of the Church.  But, in today's age, controversy is more quickly spread through the Internet.  There can almost be a constant sense of controversy due to the rapid dissemination of news and opinion. 

Maybe we've had enough things shaken up for a century or so?  Maybe we should be looking at allowing the People of God to have a moment to regroup, to hold their Faith in peaceful possession, and to set aside controversy for a while?  While there is so much clamoring for changing things in the Church, is there not a sense that what some people might need--for the good of their souls--is more stability?  In an age when marriages and families are collapsing, perhaps instead of mimicking that same kind of family disunity, the Church ought to be striving to live in deeper communion.  In an age when people are starving for the stability of a family, perhaps the Church should focus on being a stable force in people's lives.  Instead of feeding the frenzy and provoking controversy--which people deal with in all other aspects of their lives--maybe we ought to strive to be a refuge for our people.  Maybe we ought to strive towards living our ecclesial life in such a way that it is not worse than what people experience in their families and workplaces.  

Priests and bishops love to quote Pope Francis.  So do I.  But, the Church needs to be more than just a bunch of quotes.  The Holy Father has said that the Church needs to be a field hospital where wounds are treated.  What are the wounds that many people experience today?  Is it not the wounds of despair, the wounds of disunity, the wounds of alienation, the wounds of cynicism, the wounds of a lack of security and stability?  People's families are collapsing and their jobs--if they have them--are at risk.  Spouses abandon one another at alarming rates.  If these are the wounds, why aren't we treating those wounds?  Instead of infighting and constant upheaval, perhaps we should display a humble and stable communion of life.  If there is machine gun fire coming from inside the field hospital, it's unlikely that patients will want to check themselves in.  If people already feel like their lives are in turmoil, why would they ever go someplace for refuge where there is even more turmoil?

The Church is always on the move.  It is in its nature to be a pilgrim people.  But, maybe we could move with a little more deliberateness and calmness.  Maybe we could move like a people on pilgrimage and not like the Hebrews being chased by Pharaoh. There are times when we may have to move like that, but let's not make that our standard mode of travel.  Maybe we could move like people being led by the Holy Spirit.  Yes, people being moved in love and in joy; moved to evangelize and to make disciples.  People moved to follow Christ more ardently. People moved towards poverty, chastity, and obedience.  People moved to love the poor and to reach out to those on the outside.  But not people who are simply tossed about.  Maybe instead of more committees, controversies, factions, programs, and activities, we need a little more charity, closeness, prayer, and forgiveness.  

I've served in a parish and now I serve as a college chaplain.  Admittedly, my experience is very small, so I understand that the experience of others might be different.  But my experience is that people are looking for a place to experience true communion.  Do we need to reach out to the divorced and remarried, the same-sex attracted, and the secularist?  Absolutely.  We should do so with zeal, tenderness, and joy.  But, what makes us so deluded to think that any of those people are going to want to come to the Church if the rest of us are all at war with each other?  We can't replace discipleship with controversy.  Well, we can, but it is going to lead to even more bleeding of the Christian faithful.  We should focus our efforts on preaching Jesus Christ.  We tend to talk about everything else, presuming that we've got the whole Jesus thing figured out already.  Maybe what is ailing the Church is a lack of focus on Jesus Christ and being his disciples.  

The impetus right now in the life of the Church--particularly ignited by Pope Francis--to reach out to others and to draw in those who feel abandoned or ostracized is absolutely beautiful and necessary. But, we need to find ways of doing that that do not constantly make people feel like the Church is being tossed back and forth between bickering ideologies.  Let's show mercy towards the divorced and remarried, the same-sex attracted, and whomever else feels ostracized.  But, let's also show mercy on the people who feel tossed about from one change to the next.  Let's all have mercy on each other.  Let's be generous in our mercy towards each other---even if we can't agree on how to move ahead on certain questions.  But let's not provoke situations--in the media and in the halls of ecclesiastical power--that makes the Church look like it is going through a pathetic and nasty divorce. 

My modest proposal for the Church's Synod on the Family?  Let the Church's pastors and people resolve to live like a true Christian family and thus provide the world a shining example of what the family is.  That's when the hospital will truly be open for business.

What's It Like to Be a Priest?

It's not an unusual occurrence for me to be asked, "What is it like to be a priest?"  Every answer seems trite.  That's why I try to blog about my experience as a priest.  In communicating my experience, I hope that I also communicate something of the intensity of the joy that priesthood brings.  To that end:

This evening was an evening of prayer and training for our student retreat leaders who have been organizing and preparing our Fall retreat that will take place next weekend.  The title of the retreat is "Encounter."  In response to Pope Francis' Apostolic Exhortation, "The Joy of the Gospel," the retreat will attempt to return to the very basics of our Christian Faith: Jesus Christ.  One of our student retreat leaders began the training tonight by quoting from the exhortation.  "I never tire of repeating those words of Benedict XVI which take us to the very heart of the Gospel: 'Being a Christian is not the result of an ethical choice or a lofty idea, but the encounter with an event, a person, which gives life to a new horizon and a decisive direction.'"  Hearing this young university student quote this particular passage made my heart very joyful.  This is everything!  I have always loved this quote from Pope Benedict XVI and was delighted to find it in Pope Francis' Apostolic Exhortation.  But to hear a young person draw this line out as something that struck him too . . . well, this is just very beautiful.

As I was hearing confessions, I could hear the others in the chapel singing in adoration before the Blessed Sacrament.  

When they were leaving for the evening, one student came up to me and hugged me and said, "Thank you for baptizing me at Easter. I am so happy to be a Catholic!"

What's it like being a priest?  Tonight, I was with about 25 young people.  They were organizing a retreat, going to confession, adoring and praising God in the Blessed Sacrament, loving each other, and talking about the centrality of encountering Christ.  I get to witness all of that and to minister among them.  To be a priest is to live the event of Christ.  This event--this encounter--gives you the constant sense that something truly beautiful and extraordinary is happening.  That's what it's like to be a priest.

Lessons on the Priesthood from Calvary

SPOILER ALERT!  If you intend on seeing this movie and don't want to know certain things (like the ending), then don't read this post!  

The movie "Calvary" is one of those films that leaves you trying to absorb what you just saw.  A day after seeing the film, I find myself still thinking about it, trying to comprehend it.  There are many things that could be said about the film, but I'd like to offer just one reflection.

The main character--Fr. James Lavelle--is an intelligent, warm, and very human character.  Throughout the film, he enters into the lives of all sorts of persons.  A drunkard, an adulteress, a dying man, a male prostitute, a prisoner, a militant atheist, and others all find themselves in his company.  Most of them are filled with a profound cynicism about life and specifically about Catholicism.  The priest--although the only one to offer any of these people any sort of true love--is mocked continuously throughout the film.  Although clearly more intelligent than all of them, the priest is often treated as though he were a buffoon.  And yet, he stays with these people.  He continuously places himself in situations where he will be mocked as the official representative of an outdated and superstitious religion.

And yet, amidst the mockery, insults, and hatreds directed towards him, one senses that these people want something that the priest possesses.  It's as though he carries something within him that they want but that they won't allow themselves to have. They're all miserable.  Their lives are filled with pain, emptiness, and despair.  Fr. Lavelle, like Christ, enters into their experience.  He's close to his people.  He's close to the people who mock and insult him.  He keeps entering into their lives despite the hatred for him that always seems to be boiling below the surface.  "Blessed are you when they insult and persecute you and utter every kind of evil against you falsely because of me.  Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven."

Fr. Lavelle enters into the lives of these people with a fatherly love for them, but this love is reciprocated only with insults and persecutions.  Nobody would look at Fr. Lavelle's efforts as having much success, but he keeps showing up and loving this assortment of troubled persons, despite the poor way in which they treat him.  Like the apostles before him, Fr. Lavelle has become a spectacle and is treated as the refuse of the world.  Fr. Lavelle, throughout the film, despite all of his flaws and weaknesses is becoming more and more like Christ.  He is making his way to Calvary.

In the film, Fr. Lavelle is mocked because of his Catholicity.  He's mocked because he holds outdated religious beliefs in a world that has become so enlightened.  He's mocked because he puts himself out there.  He could hide away, but instead, he's in the pubs, visiting homes, hospitals, and jails.  He is persecuted for imitating Christ.

Fr. Lavelle fits in among his people because he is very human.  He's a sinner and a man with flaws.  But, one never gets the sense from Fr. Lavelle that he's trying to fit in.  He shows up at the pub in his cassock.  He's not trying to blend in.  He's real and he's authentic.  He's not in that pub because he wants to be accepted.  He's there because that's where his people are.  He's there because he loves the people.  Even when they mock him, you get the sense that these people know that Fr. Lavelle loves them.  That love is at the root of why they mock him, I think.  They are all looking to be loved.  But, when they experience it, they refuse to accept it.

Pope Francis talks a lot about priests and bishops going "out to the edges."  I think that we have to be careful when we travel to the edges that we are going there for the right reasons.  We need to go there in order to love the people on the edges.  But, we shouldn't go there in order to "fit in."  We shouldn't go to the edges in the hopes that the newspaper will write nice things about us and that the politicians will invite us as window dressing to their events.  When we go there with this kind of intention, we mock ourselves, and this kind of mockery doesn't bring with it the reward of "Rejoice and be glad!"  

What is so beautiful about the depiction of the priest in the movie is that the reason he is mocked, persecuted, and killed is precisely because he is a good priest; a priest who loves his people and who stays close to them.  He is the good shepherd who lays down his life for the sheep.  He fits in because he's a real man.  He stands out because he loves with a shepherd's heart and risks everything on that love.

The Sadness Brought By Church Politics and the Joy Brought By Witnesses

Icon of Sts. Peter and Paul

Last night before going to bed, I stupidly read a few articles concerning ecclesiastical politics, rumors of Vatican intrigue, and ideological battles raging among members of the curia.  As soon as I read the articles, I felt a kind of sadness.  Upon recalling those articles this morning, the same sadness returned.  It's the same sadness that I feel when I sometimes hear people talk about the Church as though it were all politics: liberals against conservatives.  I tell them, "The Church is so much more than that!"  But there is this ugliness in the Church of political maneuvering and ideological nastiness.  It actually occurs.  It is specifically something that plagues the clergy.  When the clergy--bishops and priests--act in this kind of way, is it any wonder that it leaves people somewhat downcast and cynical about the Church?

As I said, when I woke up this morning, the memory of these political ecclesiastical articles came to mind again.  And with them, came a feeling of sadness.  As I was getting ready for the day, a text from one of my young co-workers at the BU Catholic Center arrived: "Holy Hour when we get in today?"  An hour or so later, sitting in the chapel before the Blessed Sacrament, I thought about the various experiences of the Church during the previous twenty-four hours.

The day began with a Holy Hour.  A co-worker and I try to pray a Holy Hour each morning.  While we prayed, a few others eventually found their way to the chapel and prayed their own Holy Hours.  Then, at the end of our hour, the FOCUS Missionaries and a few others arrived to pray their Holy Hours.  A short while later, twenty-five young people came to Mass. After Mass, I grabbed lunch with a student.  We talked about serious stuff and--as often is the case--I found myself moving closer to God as a result of this experience of the Church.  

Later in the day a small committee of staff and students met to discuss our weekly "Catholics on Campus" event.  We were continuing to plan out the semester for this weekly event.  All of us were kind of tired and sluggish during the meeting.  All of us wanted the meeting to end.  But, even the fact that we were all tired together gave me a sense of gratitude for our work together.

Following that, we had our weekly spaghetti dinner at the Catholic Center.  Among those with whom I conversed was a young man whom I met last year.  He's Muslim.  The opportunity to share a meal together and to have a pleasant conversation made me grateful.

After spaghetti dinner, we had our weekly, "Catholics on Campus" event.  This week's topic was about the "Hook Up Culture." As l listened to the conversations, I found myself moved by the fact that these young people have miraculously heard the voice of Christ despite living in a culture that is so opposed to that happening.

At the end of the evening, the FOCUS Missionaries, two Jesuit seminarians who help out here, a young man who works here as an intern, and I all had some social time together.  It was a lot of fun.  Among other things, I was again grateful for the opportunity to have these two young Jesuits here.  In Boston, though it is probably impolitic to state it aloud, there is a lingering tension, suspicion, and distrust between a good number of the Boston Clergy and some of the Jesuits.  The reasons for it revolve around the sale of the seminary property to Boston College some years ago.  It also revolves around competing theological visions.  I'm grateful for the presence of these two Jesuits who help out here and for other Jesuits in the area who have been invited to serve as adjunct spiritual directors at the diocesan seminary.  These types of friendships perhaps are the best way to heal what remains a wound in the local Church.  The witness of these two solid men, their vocations, their intelligence and fidelity, and our communion fill me with a sense of hope.   

Then, I went home and read those articles.  The articles about infighting, ideological agendas, and ecclesiastics treating each other poorly left me with a sense of sadness.  That's how I woke up too--  sad that things like that are part of the life of the Church.  But then came the text, "Holy Hour when we get in today?"  

As I sat in the chapel today and prayed that Holy Hour, I was grateful that the vast majority of my experience of the Church is not the stuff of juicy intrigue, ideological power-struggles, or political maneuvering.  My daily experience of the Church is people who love Jesus and love others.  My daily experience of the Church is praying together with young people before the Blessed Sacrament, hearing the confessions of young people, gathering around the altar together for Mass, talking about serious and beautiful things together, watching two Jesuit seminarians live their vocation, observing young people intelligently share their faith with others, witnessing young people discern their vocation, and seeing the communion of the Church lived with joy and with sincerity.

Were it not for the witnesses whom Christ places in my life, I might wind up only with the sadness that comes from reading about Church politics, or even worse, the deeper sadness that must come from giving your whole life over to Church politics.  Church politics and ideology brings me sadness.  But that sadness is crushed and replaced with joy by seven words: "Holy Hour when we get in today?"

The Cross and the Triathlon Witness

This evening before the 10pm Mass I was standing on the stairs at the front door of the Boston University Marsh Chapel and welcoming students as they arrived for Mass.  I asked one young man how his day was and he said, "I did a triathlon today in New Jersey.  I just got back an hour ago."  And there it was.  God had just sent a witness to help me.

I often tell people at Mass that we never know how our witness helps others.  If we're ever thinking about skipping Mass because, "I don't feel like going," we're not only hurting ourselves, but we are hurting others.  We are depriving them of our witness.  And when I say, "others," I mean, "me!"  I am encouraged when I see other people at Mass.  It builds up my Faith when I witness the example of others worshipping God.

Today we celebrated the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross.  When we look at Christ Crucified, we see that God so loved the world--that He so loved me--that He gave His Only-Begotten Son so that I might have eternal life.  Catholics begin everything and end everything with the sign of the Cross.  Why?  Because everything begins and ends with God's love.  The Cross is the sign of God's love.  While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.  This is love.  The more we contemplate and exalt the Cross, the more we live our life as a response to that love.

When we are loved by another, rarely does any of us say, "Well naturally this person loves me.  I mean, I'm so awesome they'd be stupid not to love me."  No, we feel humbled by their love.  And, we seek to return that love.  We seek to respond to that love.  The Cross reminds us that we are loved by God and the more we are convinced of that love, the more we want to pour ourselves out in loving Him and our neighbor in return.

One college student did a triathlon today, then drove hundreds of miles home, and went to Mass at 10pm.  This example really touched me.  It built me up in my own Faith and encouraged me.  God so loved this young man that He gave His Only-Begotten Son for him.  And having been loved by God--as revealed by Christ's sacrifice on the Cross--this young man (undoubtedly exhausted) opted to love God in return by coming to Mass.  

And now, I'm telling you about it and maybe some of you will be encouraged and strengthened as well.  This is the power of witness.  This is the power of the Cross.  When we are convinced of God's love and respond to that love, something truly beautiful happens.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

The BU Catholic Center Flock

A typical Sunday at the BU Catholic Center:

At 9:15am, we had our Pastoral Board meeting.  The Pastoral Board is a group of students and staff who meet in order to direct planning and programming at the Catholic Center.  The only time we could find this semester that worked for everyone is Sunday morning.  Our first meeting began with one non-early riser announcing, "I already hate this time for a meeting."

While it hasn't started yet, on most Sundays the Men's Group will meet at 10:45am.

Today, after the 9:15am meeting, our FOCUS Missionaries met with a large group of students in order to help them grow in leadership skills and in order to bond together.

At the same time, the choir was practicing.

Then, there was 12:30pm Mass.  Students serving, singing, playing instruments, setting up for Mass, cleaning up after Mass, manning tables to get people to sign up for our retreat that comes at the end of September, and welcoming people to Mass.

After Mass, a group of about 20 of us went out for lunch to celebrate the birthday of a young man who graduated this past May and who is now in the seminary.

Another group, led by one of our FOCUS Missionaries went kayaking on the Charles River.

I heard confessions throughout the day.  Students just coming up and asking.

I tried to take an hour's nap.  Didn't work, but it was nice to take a break.  For some reason, I woke up this morning at 4:30am.

This evening we had the 6pm Mass.  At that Mass, offered by a Franciscan priest who helps us out, there were two Jesuit seminarians who also help out here.  Again, the musicians practicing, students setting up, cleaning up, welcoming, and inviting.

While that Mass was going on, I hung out with one of the students and talked about life and different aspects of the Catholic Center.

After the 6pm Mass, we had our retreat planning meeting.  The retreat is planned by a group of students in coordination with our interns.  They're doing an impressive job.  The young people here are very responsible.

From the very moment I pulled into my parking spot this morning, I have been encountering Christ in the faces of the people who live the life of this community with me.  Their example, dedication, commitment, prayerfulness, joy, and Faith move me to desire to adhere more to Christ and to grow in my own Faith.

And now, having used writing this blog post as a way of keeping me from dozing off, I have to go get ready for the 10pm Mass.

Grateful to Christ for putting me in the midst of something so beautiful.  May it not only be sustained, but may it grow and multiply.  

The Spiritual War: On Whose Side Will You Fight?

Each Tuesday night at the BU Catholic Center, we host a presentation/discussion on various Catholic topics.  Last night was entitled, "Spiritual Combat," and our presenter was young Jesuit scholastic who has been part of our community for the past year or so.  While I think the students enjoyed the evening, I definitely know that I did!

Among other things that really struck me about the evening was his emphasis on the fact that evil does not want us to draw close to Jesus Christ.  It is always at work, attempting to undermine each of us in our relationship with Christ.  At the same time, I've recently been reading a bit about the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius and have been struck by its clarity in terms of knowing our own heart and knowing the "usual tactics" of Satan.  Being attentive to these realities is important because if we know the common tactics that Satan uses to undermine us, then we are better able to fight them.  

Consideration of these types of things are obviously good for my own spiritual life, but they are also helpful for my pastoral life.  The Devil seeks to destroy what is good, holy, and fruitful for the salvation of souls.  There is nothing better, holier, or more fruitful than the Sacraments.  And so, the Devil revels when he gets people to stop attending Mass, from receiving absolution in the confessional, and from receiving the Eucharist.  

Sometimes, the Devil sows dissension and rivalries in order to weaken the Church.  People begin to focus on their disagreements, hatreds, and injuries in such a way that, little by little, they are dragged away from the altar of God towards the gates of Hell.  Little by little--one disagreement at a time--the Devil lures people away from the beautiful communion of the Church.  This not only brings harm to the individual.  It has much wider implications.  In weakening the communion of the Church, the Devil weakens the witness of the Church.  People are drawn to the Catholic life when they look at Catholic communities and say, "See how they love one another."  If a Catholic community is marked by division and turmoil, its focus is no longer on Jesus Christ.  Turning our gaze from Christ is the work of the Enemy.  

Sometimes in the life of the Church, we focus so much on the mundane, practical, ho-hum realities that we forget that we are about the work of salvation.  I've seen disastrous things happen because we've taken our eye of the spiritual ball and become absorbed in silliness.  In moments like this, what we don't need is to arm ourselves with staplers, pens, and paper in order to fight a war of middle-management bureaucracy wherein victory leaves us almost as empty as defeat.  Instead, we need to remember the end game of our Enemy.  He seeks to destroy.

If he is drawing people away from the Church, from prayer, from the Sacraments, from the communion of saints, then he is reveling in his tactics.  But, the Devil is a fraud, a liar, and a marauder.  He comes only to destroy.  If we succumb to his tactics by surrendering our spiritual lives, by giving up the Sacraments, by becoming discouraged and downcast, we are now working and fighting for him.  We're just too stupid to know it!

If you're feeling discouraged about the Church or if you find yourself drifting away from a life of prayer and from the sacraments, it is time to remember the cold, hard facts:

"Finally draw your strength from the Lord and from his mighty power.  Put on the armor of God so that you may be able to stand firm against the tactics of the Devil. For our struggle is not with flesh and blood, but with the principalities and with the powers, with the world rulers of this present darkness, with the evil spirits in the heavens.  Therefore, put on the armor of God, that you may be able to resist on the Evil Day and, having done everything, to hold your ground.  So stand firm with your loins girded in truth, clothed with righteousness as a breastplate, and your feet shod in readiness for the gospel of peace.  In all circumstances, hold faith as a shield to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one.  And take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God" (Ephesians 6:11-17).  And, of course, "Over all of these, put on love" (Colossians 3:14).

You Forgot "International Buy a Priest a Beer Day?" Fear Not. There's A Way Out!

I am sure that it came upon many of you as much as it came upon me, a total surprise.  These things have a way of sneaking up on us.  Probably many of my family and friends are in a total panic right now.  It is "International Buy a Priest a Beer Day" and many people just didn't have it on their radar.  And now it is here.  Today.  Now people are in total panic.  "I can't buy Fr. Barnes a beer today!  I already have plans.  How could I have been so stupid?  How could I have let this happen?"

Please, I hate to see you in such despair.  I want to provide you a way to satisfy your earnest, sincere, and altogether appropriate desire to buy me a beer on this most solemn of feasts.  It grieves me to think of you spending this whole day--understandably--inconsolable by what appears to be an impossible situation.  You did not plan well and now feel as though you've done a terrible thing, abandoning me on this incredibly important day.   It is true, right, and just that you feel this misery right now.  Fortunately, the Church is a fountain of mercy.  There is a way out of this self-imposed situation in which you have placed yourself.

In lieu of buying me a beer today, you can make a donation to the BU Catholic Center.  You can go to BU Catholic Center or click on the box at the top right hand side of this blog.  We are currently at 52% of our goal.  You could help us move the needle and help us in our work of serving some great young people.  If not, please let me know what time you will be coming by today so that I may plan accordingly.  

I know that you probably feel yourself completely unworthy of such a merciful opportunity.  After all, it is completely your own fault that you did not plan accordingly.  All one can do in a moment like this is to stand in complete gratitude and make a donation.

God Bless!

Fr. Barnes

Why I Love the Church

The Call of Peter--"Depart from Me Lord for I am a Sinful Man"

Sometimes people think that priests stand by the Church because that's their job.  They kind of have to protect the company, no matter what.  Not for me.  Look, people in the Church (of whom I am one) do all manner of sinful, stupid, and sometimes downright mean things.  But, the reason I love the Church is not because it gives me the big paycheck.  I love the Church because Christ reaches me and touches me through the Church.

It's an interesting thing being a 43 old priest assigned to work at a University.  I spend all day with people who are mostly half my age.  It would be kind of natural to presume that in this situation, I would not have anything to gain from the people whom I serve.  I could see how someone might think that since I'm the 43 year old priest, it's all about me teaching them.  But, that presumption would be wrong.

When I think about my relationship with the Church, I always think that Christ is putting me in the place where I am going to be sanctified.  In other words, the Church is FOR me.  I NEED to grow.  I need to be made holy.  I need to experience a constant increase in Faith, Hope, and Charity.  I need to be instructed.  I need to hear the voice of Christ, to be touched by His healing Presence, to be drawn into His embrace.  I love the Church not because of company loyalty.  I love the Church because Christ embraces me with the hands of His Body, the Church.  

Today, I'm mindful of various ways in which Christ has used His Body, the Church to help me and to encourage me.  Some of this may make no sense to anybody, but some of it will.

* How beautiful it is when a young person asks, "Father, do you have time for a confession?"

*Seeing a chapel filled with young people for daily Mass.

*Witnessing a person who drives 1 1/2 hours to and from work three times a week and who never stops working for the young people at our Newman House.  She shops, irons, does the books, cooks, cleans, welcomes visitors, hounds the chaplain to get things done, and treats everyone with love.

* Young people who have graduated from the University but who volunteer for one or two years to serve the Catholic Center.

* When people showed up for the Catholic Center Barbecue after all the food was gone and one of the students scrounged together whatever he could find to welcome them and feed them.

* The kid who took the trash bag out of my hand and who said, "I'll get it."  He does stuff like that all of the time.

*The people who cleaned up after the Barbecue tonight.

* Yesterday when young people who had something else to do went upstairs to the chapel to pray with a new person who happened to stop by and who asked, "Is there some sort of Evening Prayer now?"

*When I walk into the chapel and find a young person there praying.

* The text message from a young man who asks me what time we're going to do our Holy Hour tomorrow.

*The young people at the Catholic Center who do so many good things in secret.

*The friends I've made along the way who donate to the Boston University Catholic Center.

*Making fun of my Boston Accent.

*Saying Mass at the seminary the other day and seeing the beautiful things that Christ is doing in these young men.  And, seeing the goodness of the priests who shepherd them.

* After the Final Blessing at Mass each day, seeing these young people kneel down and offer a prayer of Thanksgiving.

* The joyful experience of being educated in the Christian life by people younger than me.

*Praying together.

* Hearing Confessions.

*Talking about vocational discernment with young people.

*Meeting a group of exchange students who want to live the Catholic life while they are here.

* Meeting new Undergrad and Grad students who have been formed well by their families, parishes, and priests.

*Dinner with families and friends

* Receiving funny text messages.

*The calls I receive from people about their sufferings and burdens.

I've worked with parishioners, seminarians, and college students.  Honestly, I'm not good enough or holy enough to do this kind of work simply out of some magnanimous gesture.  What keeps me attached to the Church is that Christ touches me through these people.  He reaches me through them.  In some ways, it is a humbling thing to acknowledge that Christ didn't put me among these young people because I'm some sort of spiritual genius.  Instead, he puts me with them so that we can mutually help each other.  They help me to be sanctified and I hope that I help them to be sanctified.  These young people draw me to a deeper prayer life and to a deeper life of charity.  Don't get me wrong.  Some of them-ahem, ahem, --and they know who they are--are real pains.  But, they're the pains that Christ has given to me.

The reason that I love the Church is because Christ embraces me through the Church.  And, through the life of the Church, he uses me to embrace others.  I love the Church because it is through the Church that I experience the Love of Christ.  I am compelled to encourage others to strengthen their attachment to the Church because the Church has given me everything that I have. 

I can't defend everything that has ever been said or done by some dopey Catholic in some particular place at some particular time.  But, I can testify that I encounter daily young men and women who help me to follow Christ.  Their example fills me with gratitude and wonder.  Through them--and through the example of so many faithful Catholics--I encounter the person and love of Jesus Christ.  

At the Heart of a Priestly Vocation Is Living the Memory of a Call

(This week, I had morning Mass one day at the seminary and preached this homily).

We have all been asked at one time or another the question, "What made you become a priest?" or "What made you go into the seminary?"  It's interesting to me that as the culture has become more secularized, the question more often takes that form.  But, I am always impressed and moved when somebody phrases the question by asking, "When did you get the call?" 

This latter way of phrasing the question arises from a beautiful and profound recognition on the part of faithful Christians that, at the root of every priestly vocation, is a call.  The vocation of the priest is not the result of a personality quiz or a career diagnostic test.  A priest's vocation doesn't begin with an assessment of his particular skill set.  When the faithful ask, "How did you know that you were called?" they are revealing something beautiful about our vocation.  It began with a personal call from Christ himself.  He spoke to us; "Come and follow me."  He asked us to follow him, to walk in his path, and to share in his pastoral mission.  

Today's Gospel (Luke 5:1-11) provides to us a profound and penetrating paradigm of the call to the priestly vocation.  Jesus came to Peter and entered into Peter's boat--into Peter's experience, his life, into his concrete reality.  Once in Peter's boat, Jesus speaks his word. This word moves Peter towards the obedience of Faith.  "It doesn't make sense to me Lord, but at your command I will do it."  When Peter obeys the Lord, he experiences the "hundredfold."  Whenever we act in the obedience of Faith to Christ, he does more with us than we think possible.  In the face of this, Peter recognizes his smallness, his unfitness for such gratuity, his sinfulness.  "Depart from me Lord, for I am a sinful man!"  But then the Lord tells Peter, "Do not be afraid.  I will make you more."  And Peter leaves everything to follow Christ.

Peter's life is defined and shaped by this call.  How often in his life Peter must have recalled the incident.  His friends and companions must have heard it countless times. "Oh no, he's going to tell the story about the nets again."  For all of us, our vocation began with a call from Christ.  But, we can sometimes live our life detached from this call.  We live as though that were simply a matter in time.  But it is so much more than that.  To live our vocation, we must live with profound attachment to that initial encounter where Christ called us.

When we live our life detached from that calling, our life lacks consistency.  It lacks any unifying principle.  Our life devolves into moralism.  We have "trying to be chaste" over here and "being prayerful" over there, and "being obedient" over here.  But nothing holds our life together.  But, when we live the memory of our call from Christ--when everything is lived from this call--then our life is given consistency.  When we do not live in the present the memory of this call, we live as though God were shouting down instructions from heaven.  

How do we live the memory of this call in the present moment?  Through the life of prayer.  Each day, when we enter into the life of prayer, we recall with profound gratitude that Christ has entered into our boat.  His has stepped from the shores of heaven into the boat of our life.  He has entered into my experience.  And into my experience, he has spoken his word.  A Word that moves me.  A Word that draws me into the deep of the Trinitarian life.  A Word that gives my life depth and abundance.  In obedience to this Word, I experience the hundredfold.  Whenever we encounter this experience, like Peter, we are overwhelmed by God's love. We feel intensely our own weakness and sinfulness.  "Depart from me Lord.  This love is too much for me!  I am a sinful man." But, the Lord does not abandon us.  Instead, he asks us to go deeper.  He invites us to sacrifice something more.  He leads us away from our selfishness and sin and leads us towards a life filled with greater abundance.  He invites us to leave behind our nets.  Yes, daily in the life of prayer the memory of this call is awakened within us and we live again the newness of the call of Christ.

It is interesting that the question about our call most often comes from lay people.  To our shame, priests rarely inquire of one another about their call.  And yet, this call is at the very heart of our life.  Today, the Gospel reminds us of the centrality of this call.  It invites us to stand daily vigil by this call and to live the memory of this call.

As we now approach God's holy Altar, we see this mystery most perfectly fulfilled.  We see that God has stepped from Heaven and entered into our experience.  In the Eucharist, Christ who calls us does so from "the inside."  He enters into us.  He enters into our boat.  In the Eucharist, we receive into our boat the One who calls us.  The one who calls us enters into our souls and he calls us from the inside.  And more than this, not only does he enter into us and call us, but he accomplishes within us what he calls us to be. He calls us to share in the image of the Divine Shepherd and through the reception of the Eucharist, he brings the image of the Divine Shepherd to perfection within us.

That Stinking Sheep

This morning I was up early because I had the morning Mass at the seminary and then a full day at the BU Catholic Center.  Around 7pm, one of the students asked me if I was going to attend the BU Catholic Center's "Glow in the Dark Dodge Ball" event that was taking place that evening.  I told him that I was tired and was going to head home for the night.He sniffed and then said, "Not really into smelling like the sheep anymore, huh?  No stench on you anymore."  

Ah, I have to give credit where credit is due.  He knew just where to stick the knife.  It was masterful.  I admit it.  Oh, and he knew as soon as the knife went in that it struck a vital organ.  Satisfaction was written all over his face.  Checkmate.  I went to "Glow in the Dark Dodge Ball."

From being at the seminary this morning to being at BU all day and evening, I spent the whole day with young men and women in whom Christ is doing something beautiful.  If ever you find yourself discouraged, you should remember that Christ is doing something beautiful in these young people.  Their witness and example is inspiring to me--even when it cuts like a two-edged sword.  Stinking sheep.

Priesthood and the Gift of Exhaustion!

As I was falling into my bed last night, a thought entered into my mind, "I'm exhausted.  God will certainly understand if I don't pray tonight.  After all, I've been working for Him all day."  But yesterday was one of those days when even the exhaustion felt like a gift.  At the end of a day like that, I needed to pray--even if briefly and with little coherency!  Just as I thought that, I received a text from a friend and coworker about prayer.  It was just an added bonus to an already magnificent day.

Yesterday was the first day of a new year at the BU Catholic Center, and it was a great day.  After a relatively cool month of August, our first Sunday of the year--the last day of August--was oppressively humid and hot.  The un-airconditioned chapel was sweltering.  It may have been an opportune moment to preach briefly.  But, I just couldn't take that opportunity!  The readings were just so great that I had to preach.  We had Jeremiah saying, "You duped me O Lord!"  We had St. Paul telling us not to be conformed to this age but rather be renewed by the transformation of our minds.  And, we had our Lord teaching us that the way of discipleship is always the way of the Cross.  Those are words that have to be preached!

After Mass, I was happy to greet returning students and welcome new students.  There was a large group of exchange students from various Spanish speaking countries.  They were really so joyous and interested in things.  It was great to meet them and I hope to gather with them soon.

After Mass, we went to lunch at one of the University dining halls.  Although there were many choices, the intern said, "Oh look!  The salad bar is open.  Maybe we should get a salad."  That was his way of pointing out that the summer was now over and it was time to reverse the curse of the weight gains that I've made over the past two months.  A salad it was.  About fifteen of us sat at a table and dined together.  FOCUS Missionaries, students, the Intern, and me.  It was a great a lunch, followed by a visit from some recent BU graduates who are now in the seminary.  They just finished their beginning of the year retreat and were out and about for the day.

At 6pm, we were back to the chapel for Mass.  I didn't think it possible, but it was hotter at 6pm than it had been at the 12:30.  Again, a great crowd of students for Mass.  As we poured out of the chapel after Mass, there were the FOCUS Missionaries outside with Freeze Pops.  That may have been the most ingenious idea ever!  Wow, did that feel good!

After Mass, we had "ambassador training."  A solid group of returning students meet together and discuss how to welcome and engage new students.  The evening was organized and run by the students, our Intern, and our FOCUS Missionaries.  I am always impressed by their organization and dedication.  

After that meeting, there was another meeting.  The Pastoral Board--students elected by their peers--met with the Intern and me to discuss upcoming events and to plan for the year.  It was--happily--a brief meeting.  

Besides all of that, the day was punctuated by hearing a good number of confessions, some good-natured bantering--live and via text, and just catching up with a lot of people whom I haven't seen all summer.  Thankfully, the 10pm Mass doesn't start until next Sunday, so I got to be home by 10pm last night.  When I arrived, I ate some dinner quickly, chatted with my housemates, and fell into bed.

Today, I'm moving a little bit slowly!  Later on, we have Mass together, a retreat planning meeting with our interns and student retreat team, and then an evening scavenger hunt as part of our first week events.

One of the great joys of being at a Newman Center is that I get to spend the majority of my time with the students.  The exhaustion I felt last night was partly from having a full day of activities and from the oppressive heat.  But, there was also a sweetness to this kind of tired.  It was the kind of tired you get when your heart is moved by the power and goodness of Christ.  It was the kind of tired that comes from from being caught up in something that is beyond what you could ever accomplish or build.  It's the kind of tired that makes you awestruck by the witness and love of those with whom you are surrounded.  I was wiped out yesterday not because the work that I did was laborious.  I was wiped out yesterday because Christ poured into my heart a love that is beyond my natural capacity.  I was wiped out because the Lord--in His Mercy for me--allows me to live the priesthood in the midst of His people.  As Psalm 16 says, "He has put into my heart a marvelous love for the faithful ones who dwell in his land."  This marvelous love is sweetly exhausting.